


Centaur Liaison Office

by Nival_Vixen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, BAMF Ginny, BAMF Pansy, Bisexual Male Character, Double Agents, Double Life, Emotional Growth, Emotional Manipulation, Espionage, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Eventual Torture, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Final Battle happened, Grief/Mourning, Harry is not a good guy, Inter wizarding world relations, Lesbian Character, M/M, Ministry of Magic, Multi, Not Epilogue Compliant, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Post-War, Secret Identity, Slow Build, Spies & Secret Agents, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Twincest, Violence, Wizard spies, Wizarding Politics, Wizarding World, Wizards, Work In Progress, post Final Battle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 44
Words: 218,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Ministry employee knows that being transferred to the Centaur Liaison Office means that you're really being fired. But when herself Ginny is transferred, she discovers that common knowledge isn't always right. Instead, she's shown a secret world of espionage within the Ministry that she never knew existed, and offered the opportunity of a lifetime.</p>
<p>Before she can become an agent of Cloffice, however, she'll need to survive the training. This would probably be easier if she didn't have a little voice in her head that sounded far too familiar, and could stop having far too realistic dreams involving two certain wizards also at Cloffice: Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set five years after the Final Battle.
> 
> ...
> 
> This story is currently a WIP on FFNet (up to 34 chapters), and as it's my favourite story, and it's somewhat more adult than FFNet usually allows, I thought I'd put it on here too.
> 
> I'll be posting the first three chapters today, and then I will post one chapter a week until I'm caught up.  
> If you're not happy waiting, you can read the rest of the chapters [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6174720/1/Centaur-Liaison-Office)
> 
> On that note, please understand that I started writing this story 4 years ago, and I can assure you that my writing has improved. (At least, I hope it has!)

 

_1815, Ministry of Magic_.

 

Grogan Stump, the first-appointed Minister for Magic (from 1811 to the present date), looked at the reports for the various Departments. The one that had caused the most trouble so far, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, also had the worst report for some of their Divisions.

 

He had created three divisions of this Department, just to keep every creature, being, and has-been happy; the Beast Division, the Being Division, and the Spiritual Division. The Being and Spiritual Divisions were going along fine, but the Beast Division was having trouble, according to the report.

 

Sometimes, he almost wished that the Wizard's Council had remained in control, instead of the Ministry being created. But then, he had managed to fix the problem that the Council had made by trying to label varied creatures into sections. They were still labelled, but in a way that was easiest for everyone to comprehend. Of sorts...

 

Stump sighed, rubbed his temples, and looked to the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

 

"What is wrong with the centaurs now?" he asked wearily.

 

"Nothing, sir," the Head replied. "That is just it. We have not seen one centaur in the Centaur Liaison Office since it was created," he said.

 

"I doubt we will, either, if you will beg my pardon saying so," another voice contributed, not sounding very apologetic.

 

"What is it ... What is your name?" Stump asked, looking to the person who had spoken.

 

"Williams, sir. Just appointed Head Auror last week," he added to refresh the Minister's memory.

 

"Oh, yes. Of course. Well, go on, Williams," Stump said.

 

"Centaurs are proud beings, sir. They are not going to come to anyone for help, especially not now that we tried to make them 'beings' along with ghouls and hags, and the like," Williams said.

 

Stump winced slightly, and nodded. The centaurs had not been happy about that, to say the least.

 

"The centaurs are not going to use the office we've provided them, so I suggest that we use it for something else," Williams finished.

 

"What do you have in mind?" Stump asked.

 

Williams grinned, and continued to outline his plan for the office.

 

...

_2003, Ministry of Magic._

 

"Ginny, you've got a plane," her assistant called from outside of the office.

 

"I'll deal with it later!" Ginny called back, rolling her eyes.

 

She was far too busy to deal with mundane planes filled with mundane problems from mundane people!

 

"It's a green plane," her assistant said, looking into the office with wide eyes.

 

Ginny stopped moving. Her hand, poised above the parchment, went numb in surprise, and the quill dropped, ink spots flying onto the no-longer-important document.

 

As she stood up and went to retrieve the green plane - _oh, why did it have to be a green one_? - Ginny wondered what she'd done to deserve this.

 

She'd finished Hogwarts after the war, receiving fairly high marks considering the little she had actually learnt from some of the incompetent Professors. Ginny had been offered a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, which she happily accepted, eager to put her spells and knowledge of animals to good use.

 

Now, two years later, Ginny was the Assistant to the Head of the Department, which basically meant that she'd gone from doing filing to practically running the office. Everyone knew that the Head of Ministry Offices didn't actually do any work. They just went around, trying to look important, trying to make everyone do their own work, and then taking credit for it.

 

Since she'd risen so fast, Ginny's name was getting fairly well-known in the Ministry. _Was the green plane because she was getting attention? No, not even the Ministry could give someone a green plane for being well-known! Could they_?

 

Ginny looked at the green plane suspended in the air. She wondered if the plane knew what it represented. She wondered if the green plane knew that it was ominous, and had the ability to scare hundreds of Ministry employees into submission at its mere mention. She finally wondered if the green plane liked having such power, before plucking it out of the air, and returning to her office, still feeling numb.

 

She sat down, trying to still her shaking hands. A few deep breaths later, Ginny took another four to ten deep breaths and undid the charm on the green plane. The plane unfolded itself, straightened out the creases and propped itself up so it could be read. Ginny tried not to think about how smug the plane looked, even as she read the words she had been dreading.

 

_You are being transferred to the Centaur Liaison Office. Please bring your belongings_.

 

...

 

Soon after the Centaur Liaison Office was created, it was noticed that most of the people who were sent there were fired. As centaurs never step foot (or hoof) into the Ministry, it was quite easy to see why. So, being 'sent to the Centaur Office' soon became jargon for 'getting fired' within the Department for the Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures.

 

Green planes were sent for people who were being 'transferred' to the Centaur Liaison Office. Whenever a Ministry officer saw one, they usually ducked or tried to hide, in case it was sent for them. These actions, of course, never worked, and soon after receiving the green plane, the witch or wizard in question could be seen heading towards the 'Cloffice', as it's not-quite-affectionately-known, looking depressed.

 

Now, Ginny was among one of those people. Other workers looked surprised, shocked even, that she was being sent there. Some looked sympathetic, while one or two looked happy at the prospect of getting her job.

 

_Well, they were welcome to it, the little bastards_ , Ginny thought viciously. _Let them see the Department fall to shit when they realised how much work she actually did. When they realised how much work she did, how much time out of the office she sacrificed to finish documents, the time she wasn't able to spend with Harry, the time she spent on her work, they would surely want her back. The Department wouldn't be able to function without her_!

 

Her head held high, Ginny opened the Cloffice door and stepped in, determined to make them regret this decision. In the very least, she knew that there was still a spare firecracker in her bag, courtesy of George. She could use it, if only she had an excuse to go into her bag.

 

"Miss Weasley, please sit down," a voice said.

 

Ginny's eyes widened when she realised that she recognised the voice, and she turned to see Pansy Parkinson sitting at a table. Two wizards were sitting on either side of her, but Ginny didn't recognise them. In fact, not one of these three had anything to do with the Ministry, as far as Ginny knew at least.

 

"Parkinson," Ginny replied coldly, sitting down on the single chair facing the witch and two wizards.

 

"You may be wondering why you have been called in here," Pansy said. "Or you are wondering why we are here, as we don't have anything to do with the Ministry, am I right?" she asked, a cross between a sneer and a smile on her face.

 

Ginny put barriers around her mind quickly, making sure not to show any annoyance on her face.

 

"And you have just blocked your mind from us. Interesting," Pansy said, a smile on her face now. "Do you do that with every acquaintance? Or only Slytherins?" she asked.

 

"I don't have to answer you, Parkinson. Now, tell me why I'm here," Ginny said, barely able to keep her lid on her temper.

 

Pansy just smirked, and looked to the document in front of her. Her features softened as she read something.

 

"I was sorry to hear about Fred. The twins were always favourites of mine," she murmured.

 

Ginny clenched her fists. "Don't you dare talk about him, Parkinson! What are you reading?" she demanded.

 

"Your scroll. You see, you have been brought to the attention of the Cloffice, what with your recent uprise in the Ministry ladder and all," Pansy said.

 

Ginny wasn't sure if she was mocking her or not, so she stayed silent.

 

"The Cloffice isn't what you think it is. It isn't what anyone thinks it is, except of course, for the people who work here," Pansy said.

 

"What the hell are you on about, Parkinson?" Ginny asked, completely confused.

 

Pansy smiled, steepled her fingers and looked at Ginny, her face serious.

 

"You are about to be offered a job. It is a job in a world you cannot even begin to imagine; it's a world that you may not want to belong to," Pansy said, trailing off for a moment.

 

One of the wizards coughed slightly, bringing Pansy out of her stupor.

 

"If you accept the job, you are given two weeks off as a grace period, and to get all of the information you need about the job. If you do not accept, then a small Memory Charm is used, and you return to simply being the Assistant to the Head of the Department for Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures," Pansy said, making it sound like the most boring job in the world.

 

Ginny liked her job. But she was still intrigued about what this job had to offer. Even though she had a really good job, no matter how Parkinson made it sound...

 

"What is the job?" she finally asked, her curiosity beating her pride.

 

Pansy smirked now, and stood up. The two wizards stood up as well, and Ginny followed suit, going after them to a side door that she was certain didn't have a room beyond it. Her office view looked straight to the Cloffice, to this very wall in fact, and there were only bricks.

 

_Maybe it was like the Room of Requirement_? a small part of her brain thought.

 

Pansy opened the door to reveal a corridor. There were about five rooms were on either side of it, all with large doors that had glass panes in them. Looking into the rooms as they passed, Ginny was surprised on seeing the things that were happening in some of them.

 

It almost looked like a school was being run ... _Except for that room where that woman was undressing_. Her mind did a double take, and she shook her head. Ginny didn't want to stop, or even ask about it. Not yet, at least.

 

Pansy kept walking down the corridor, opening a door that didn't have any glass on it. All it had was Pansy's name and 'Cloffice Director' written above it.

 

The two wizards stood on either side of the door, and Ginny went past them and into the room. The door shut behind her, and Pansy indicated to a chair across from her position behind the desk.

 

"I'm sure you have a few questions after seeing some of that," Pansy said. "But first, I want you to tell me everything you saw as we walked past," she said, looking at Ginny.

 

Pansy made it sound like a dare, and Ginny never was able to resist dares.

 

"There were about ten classrooms. The first one on the left was geography, if the large map was any indication. First on the right was presumably a language one, as the students all seemed to be speaking at the same time. Second on the left had swords and wand training. I missed the second on the right. Third on the right seemed to be some sort of theatrical class. Third on the left was potions, that I could tell just from the smell," Ginny muttered with a slight grimace.

 

Pansy gave something close to a smile, and nodded for her to continue.

 

"The fourth on the left was Herbology, or something to do with plants," Ginny said, then hesitated. "The fourth room on the right had a woman undressing, so I don't know what that's about. I missed the last two rooms," she said.

 

Pansy nodded, then leaned forward to scrutinise Ginny.

 

"Now that you've seen all of that, what do you think this job is about?" Pansy asked, a unrecognisable gleam in her eye. "Or what do you think the Cloffice really is?"

 

"A school? I have no idea what the job is about," Ginny said shaking her head.

 

"Well, that's good. You shouldn't have any idea what it's about, because all of that you just saw is training to get into the job," Pansy said, smirking once more.

 

"So this is like a school then?" Ginny asked, frowning slightly.

 

"It is a training facility," Pansy corrected. "We train people in various areas, and once they decide to specialise in one up to three areas, they are given a job best suited for those areas," she said.

 

"All right. I'm confused. What kind of job would require someone to specialise in these types of things?" Ginny asked.

 

Pansy laughed softly. "You are just like he described you," she said, smiling.

 

Ginny frowned again. "He who?" she asked.

 

"You will find out in time. Come, I will show you exactly what sort of job requires these things," Pansy said.

 

She stood up and left the room through a side door, not even waiting to see if Ginny followed her. Once in the adjoining room, Pansy stopped and opened a wardrobe. A pensieve was inside, glowing brightly.

 

"After you," Pansy said, smirking.

 

...

 

_Grogran Stump left his office late. He had stayed back, yet again, to finish work._

 

_His wife was going to kill him._

 

_He Apparated to London, and started to walk down the street to his house. His wife wasn't fond of him simply Apparating home, as their Muggle neighbours were everyday busybodies who had to know everyone else's business, including why Grogan didn't seem to ever leave the house, but he was never at home._

 

_Stump sighed to himself as his thoughts returned to work again. He had not been able to complete much work anyway. He was still thinking over Williams' idea for the Centaur Liaison Office, two weeks after it had been proposed. In some senses, it sounded far too incredible to even be plausible, yet in other ways it made complete and utter sense._

 

_He was still deep in thought when he was surrounded. People dressed in black followed him silently, their presence only known to Ginny and Pansy._

 

_Stump sighed once more, rubbing his temples._

 

_"Got the time, mister?" someone asked, the sudden voice surprising him._

 

_"Yes, I believe it is fifteen minutes to ten o'clock," Stump replied cheerfully, despite the stench and dirty look of the man who had approached him._

 

He had to be nice to Muggles. It was not through any fault of their own that they did not understand the meaning of magic ... or hygiene _._

 

_"You ent gonna check yer watch fer it?" the man asked, sounding surprised._

 

_"Oh, yes. Of course," Stump said, feeling foolish._

 

_He had bought a pocket watch especially for this kind of thing, and then he had gone and forgotten it the moment he needed it!_

 

_"It is now ten minutes to ten o'clock. Good night," Grogan said, trying to move around the man and continue on his way._

 

_The man grinned, showing missing teeth. The ones that were still in his mouth varied between yellow and black, as well as being in various stages of decay._

 

_"Excuse me, sir. I would like to pass," Grogan said._

 

_"Sir. 'Ear that, Smithy? 'E called you sir. Yer a real proper gentleman, ent ye then?" another man mocked._

 

_The man laughed, pulling a dagger seemingly out of nowhere._

 

_"W-what do you want from me?" Grogan asked, trying to back away and bumping into another man instead._

 

_"Give us that pretty watch o' yours then," one said, jabbing at him with a finger._

 

_"And yer money," another one said, hitting the other on the head._

 

_"Yeah, and yer money," he quickly added, almost sheepishly._

 

_Grogan did not have any Muggle money with him. He had left it at work, not thinking he would need it when he was going straight home. He could not hand wizarding money over to these men, nor could he get out his wand. He would risk exposing his entire kind. But he very much doubted that they would let him be until they had some sort of wealth from him either..._

 

_The man with the dagger came closer, much closer than Grogan would have liked._

 

_"Well then? Where's yer money?" he asked, the blade almost shimmering in the moonlight._

 

_Grogan did not know what to say. He could not tell the truth, obviously. But he had never been a very good liar, and they were sure to see through his lies._

 

_He opened his mouth to attempt a lie, but apparently he had taken too long. The man with the dagger raised it high above his head and started to bring it down._

 

_Then, the man's eyes widened, and he dropped to the ground. Grogan had not even noticed the other three fall._

 

_Looking up, Grogan was surprised to see Williams there, his wand somewhat hidden in his robes._

 

_"Sorry, sir. I could not just stand by and let them hurt you," he said, looking to the four men that lay unconscious around them._

 

_"What are you doing here?" Grogan asked, frowning._

 

_"I heard you were in trouble," Williams answered._

 

_"How did you hear that exactly?" Grogan asked, his voice stern._

 

_"I put a relatively minor spell on you so that I would be able to hear when you were in trouble or danger," Williams admitted._

 

_"When did you put the spell on me? And how did I not notice?" Stump asked in surprise._

 

_"The meeting a few weeks back, sir. When I told you my idea. I did a silent spell. You did not notice because the spell was designed to simply land on you, not hit you with a force," Williams said._

 

_"Oh," Grogan said. "Where did you hear about this spell?" he asked curiously, continuing down to his house with Williams by his side._

 

_"My wife made it, sir. My Lorraine is a very protective woman, and she has taken it in her head that you will need a lot of protecting, being the first Minister and all," Williams said. "I guess she was right," he murmured with a slight grin._

 

_"Was the Centaur Liaison Office your wife's idea too?" Grogan asked._

 

_"We both thought of it, sir," Williams replied._

 

_Grogan nodded, stopping as he arrived at his gate. He glared and muttered when one of the neighbours peeked through their window down at him._

 

_"I think that after what happened tonight, the Office will be necessary. Not just for me, but for future Ministers as well. But I think it should stay under the guise of the Centaur Liaison Office. It will require too much explaining to put it elsewhere, and if it is meant to be a secret, then this can be the perfect cover," Grogan said._

 

_"Of course, sir."_

 

_"I will talk of your requirements in the morning, Williams."_

 

_"Yes, sir. Have a good night, sir," Williams replied._

 

_"Thank you," Grogan said, turning to his house. "Oh, and Williams?" he said, turning back. "You have a very intelligent wife."_

 

_Williams grinned. "I know, sir. She won't let me forget it," he said with a chuckle._

 

_Grogan smiled slightly, then went into his house. Williams waited until Grogan was inside the house before he continued along his way, Disapparating in a side alley._

 

...

 

They were pulled out of the pensieve as the picture faded. Ginny was silent for a moment, Pansy watching her.

 

"So the job is to protect the Minister?" Ginny asked.

 

Pansy nodded, shutting the wardrobe door and heading back into her office.

 

"Well, why didn't you just say that?" Ginny muttered, following Pansy.

 

"Because, sooner or later, we always end up in the pensieve in order to explain how it began. This way, you learn all about it before you ask the questions. Now, do you have any questions?" Pansy asked, a slight grin on her face.

 

"How many people are in the Cloffice? I mean, do you really need as many as you have just to protect one person?"

 

"I should have been more specific, my apologies. _One_ of the jobs is to protect the Minister. As the years have changed, so has the Cloffice. We now protect the entire of the Ministry, as well as the wizarding population in England. As the largest Cloffice in the world, we are responsible for a lot of people," Pansy said. "We have over forty people in our employment, all of them in varying fields of expertise, but all of them with the same objective to protect our way of life."

 

"What are the varying fields of expertise?" Ginny asked curiously.

 

She had no idea how the training centre ( _school_ ) could protect the wizarding population with geography and languages. Or a woman undressing.

 

"You will learn more about it later. If you accept, that is. If not, well, I already told you what happens. This will be regarded as a plane sent in error, you lose two hours from your life, believe it was just paperwork, and maybe have the occasional nightmare about green paper planes. Which may or may not already be occurring," Pansy said with a smirk.

 

Ginny just raised an eyebrow at Pansy, not wanting to admit that it was the truth. She needed this job to prove to herself that she could survive on her own, and being fired via green paper plane was a thought that had churned her stomach late at night, her subconscious slipping the fear slipping into her dreams.

 

"Now, are you interested in the training?" Pansy asked.

 

"What will everyone else think if I accept? Will they just think that I've been transferred?" Ginny asked.

 

"They will all believe that you have been fired from your job," Pansy replied, seeming surprised at her question. "Everyone knows about the Cloffice, and what they think it means to be sent here."

 

"I know that, but if I still come to the Ministry everyday for this job, they will want to know why," Ginny replied. "That and my mother would most likely be on the doorstep every day for weeks demanding the Ministry give me my job back," she muttered, shaking her head.

 

By now the entire Ministry would know that Ginevra "Ginny" Weasley, Assistant to the Head of the Department for Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures, had been sent to the Centaur Liaison Office. And if the entire of the Ministry did know, then her father would too, and her mother would be at the Ministry in a matter of minutes.

 

"This is not the only entrance to the Cloffice," Pansy said, sounding amused. "If you accept the training, then both Floo and Portkey transports are given to you."

 

"All right," Ginny murmured, thinking of the 'job'.

 

She still had no idea what the job actually entailed, and the 'training' was a mystery, no matter what she had seen in those rooms.

 

But Ginny was intrigued as to what the Cloffice did to protect the wizarding population that the Ministry wasn't already doing. With Harry as an Auror, the Ministry had managed to apprehend and put over twenty Death Eaters to trial.

 

"I accept," Ginny said firmly.

 

In a small part of her brain, she fervently hoped that she wouldn't regret this decision.

 

"Excellent. Please read and sign this contract, then you can go home. We will ensure that appropriate job interviews are sent to you at the Burrow, so that you have an excuse to be out as long as you will be," Pansy said.

 

_It sounded like she had done this before_ , Ginny thought, and said as much.

 

"I have," Pansy replied with a smirk.

 

There was a knock at the door and one of the wizard-guards looked into the office.

 

"Madam Director? Miss Weasley's mother is outside the Cloffice. She wants to see you," the wizard-guard said.

 

"Very well," Pansy said with a nod.

 

The wizard-guard looked relieved, and shut the door as he returned to his imposing position in front of Pansy's door.

 

"I'll deal with her," Ginny said, reading the last of the contract.

 

She signed it, then headed out of the office before Pansy could say a word.

 

Pansy flicked her wand, and the contract filed itself in a drawer. Then she followed after Ginny.

 

"I'd like to apologise about the office. I hope you have insurance," Ginny muttered, pulling something out of her bag.

 

Pansy's eyes widened ever-so-slightly as she realised that it was a firecracker. Then her face settled to a smirk, and she stepped back.

 

"We have insurance," she replied.

 

"I WANT TO TALK WITH MY DAUGHTER! AND THE MINISTER! AND WHOEVER ELSE DID THIS TO MY DAUGHTER!" Molly's amplified voice rang out through the Ministry foyer, and Ginny was sure that even the Aurors were hiding under their desks.

 

She muttered to herself about her mother's behaviour, then lit the firecracker.

 

"Good luck. See you next week," Pansy said, then returned through to the proper Cloffice without a second look back.

 

Ginny grinned, and let go of the firecracker. She threw in a few spells and hexes, just to make it even worse, then headed out of the Centaur Liaison Office to face her mother.

 

...

 

End of the first chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny spent two days sorting through all of the letters, cards, and scrolls she had received since being 'fired' from the Ministry. A lot of it was from colleagues, some even wanting to start petitions to bring her back. Ginny had no idea that her job had gotten so much support. When Ginny had had the job hardly any of these people had looked at her, let alone talked to her. Only her assistant had talked to her, and that was work-related only. She didn't know if her assistant was married, had children, where she'd gone to school; nothing. Yet here was a letter from her assistant, begging Ginny to come back to work.

 

 _Even if the Ministry have fired you, the Department can't function without you_.

 

Well, Ginny had gotten her wish that the Department would fall without her. She didn't feel quite as happy or smug as she thought she would have.

 

Ginny wrote back, detailing all of the day's duties, and how much she believed in her assistant's ability to cope. The Department would function without her, they had to.

 

Her assistant was promoted to Ginny's job the next day. Ginny wrote to say that she was happy for her, but only got a short and crisp 'thank you' as a reply. Her assistant had obviously realised how much work she needed to do.

 

Looking at the small pile of letters of support, Ginny put them in a box and shoved it deep under her bed.

 

They had someone to do her job, so their support would be withdrawn as soon as they realised they no longer needed her. It was a sobering thought, one that Ginny didn't want to dwell on for long.

 

Looking at the other two piles she'd made, Ginny pushed aside the ones from her family. She would see them soon enough. Her mother had invited everyone over for dinner that night to 'support Ginny', which really meant to discuss why she was fired, how she was a failure, and why she wouldn't just marry Harry and be a housewife.

 

Ginny had nothing against housewives, her mother was one and an excellent one at that, but Ginny knew that she couldn't handle just sitting around the house, cleaning, cooking, and letting the man work. She wouldn't be confined like that.

 

The last pile was for jobs, interviews and the like. And oddly enough, not all of them were from Cloffice. Some foreign Ministries offered her jobs in their own magical creature Departments, animal-related businesses asked her opinions and offered jobs for her to tame wild beasts. She wasn't sure that those businesses understood what her job actually was, but she was still glad that they had thought of her.

 

There were three from Cloffice that she could see. All three jobs had 'C', 'L' and 'O' as initials. Current Legislation Office (boring), Cultivating Life Offenders (Ginny wasn't sure she wanted to know about that one), and a Composition of Literature Occupation. The third one was a job at _The Quibbler_ , writing weekly articles for the magazine.

 

Ginny applied for the third job, and promptly told her mother so that she would finally stop talking about Ginny's Ministry job.

 

"Articles, dear?" Molly asked, sounding concerned. "I'm not sure that you would suit that job, dear. Why not wait until Harry comes over tonight? You two can talk then."

 

Ginny groaned inwardly and went back upstairs to her room. She was dating Harry now that the war was over, but she hadn't seen him in a while due to the amount of Auror work he was doing.

 

 _Ron is doing as much work as Harry, and he still has time to see Hermione_ , a little voice in her mind nagged.

 

 _Harry has a lot of work to do as Head Auror_! she argued, trying to convince herself. _Besides, I was busy too. I practically didn't leave the Department_...

 

 _Because you were afraid that Harry would have time for you. You didn't want to see him, did you?_ the little voice continued.

 

 _Yes, I did!_ Ginny replied, then realised that she was arguing with herself.

 

"Gods', I think I'm going crazy," she muttered, rolling over on her bed.

 

Ginny blocked her ears, as if to try and quiet the little voice in her head.

 

...

 

Harry smiled at Ginny from across the room. She smiled back weakly.

 

Molly saw the smile that Harry gave Ginny, and cleared everyone out of the lounge room in seconds.

 

"Subtle, Mother," Ginny muttered under her breath.

 

"How are you, Gin?" Harry asked, not having heard her muttered words. He continued without waiting for a reply, "It must be a blow to be fired like that. I still don't get how they could do that to you. You were the best thing to happen to that Department since it opened!"

 

"It's okay, I've already applied for another job," Ginny said.

 

"Molly told me about that," Harry said, looking at her. "Are you sure you want to write articles, Gin? It's a lot of work, and I haven't seen you write anything before."

 

"I know that it's a lot of work, Harry," Ginny replied coolly, hating how he was treating her like she was sixteen.

 

Harry grinned at her, not seeming to realise that she was using a cold tone. "All right then. I'll tell Molly to leave you alone, shall I?"

 

"Thanks," Ginny said, not looking at him, annoyed because she knew her mother _would_ listen to Harry when she hadn't listened to her.

 

"I was going to go visit ... Fred tomorrow," Harry said. "Did you want to come with me?"

 

Ginny wondered how long it had been since Harry had last visited Fred's grave.

 

She went every week on Sunday with George. George told jokes to Fred, cried sometimes, but mostly tried to keep upbeat and told Fred all about the things that were happening in his life, as well as the shop. Then they got home and celebrated that they were alive with a mixture of firecrackers, alcohol and cake. It was what Fred would have wanted, they both knew that.

 

Suddenly, Ginny didn't want to go to Fred's grave with Harry. He would make it sombre, spoil the feeling of love and joy that she and George had created there.

 

"My interview is tomorrow," Ginny said, shaking her head.

 

"All right," Harry said, sounding disappointed. "I have to go to Ireland for a few days. We're following up a lead on some of the remaining Death Eaters."

 

"Okay," Ginny said. She raised an eyebrow slightly, wondering why he was telling her this. Harry had never told her why he was leaving, just that he would see her in a few days.

 

"So I'll see you in a few days then?" Harry said, giving her a smile that seemed forced.

 

"See you in a few days," Ginny said with a nod.

 

Harry left the lounge room swiftly. Molly shook her head at her daughter, going after Harry.

 

George sat by Ginny and offered to put a _Spy-Sock_ into Harry's trunk if she wanted. She denied his offer, laughing over the name of one of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' newest products.

 

...

 

Ginny went to _The Quibbler_ 's front desk, as the application had informed her. A young witch was sitting there, a small desk fire to her left and parchments on her right. As Ginny approached, she looked up and smiled at her.

 

"How may I help you?" she asked brightly.

 

"I'm here for the Composition of Literature Occupation position," Ginny replied.

 

"Miss Weasley?" the witch queried, and was answered with a nod. "Please take a seat, and I will inform them of your arrival," the witch said, indicating over to the chairs with another bright smile.

 

 _Them_? Ginny wondered, but went over to the chairs and sat down.

 

A green light flashed from the desk fire, and the witch turned her attention away from Ginny.

 

"You've reached _The Quibbler_ information desk, how may I help you?"

 

As the witch answered the firecall, she wrote a note on a parchment, scrunched it into a ball, then threw it down the corridor behind her. The parchment bounced along the carpet, turning a corner. Ginny could hear it bouncing against a door.

 

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't give you the answers to _The Quibbler_ 's prize crossword," the witch said into the fire.

 

A parchment bounced its way onto her desk, and she looked over to Ginny.

 

"You can go in now, Miss," the witch said with a smile. "Follow the parchment," she added, then returned to the fire call. "No, sir, that was not an answer to one of the questions."

 

Ginny followed the bouncing parchment, turning at the end of the corridor. She found herself at a rather plain-looking door and was somewhat disappointed.

 

Then the door opened, and Ginny found herself stepping into a room that was nothing like the other ones she had passed on the way. On seeing the door disappear behind her, Ginny figured that she had just entered a different building all together.

 

At one end of the room three people were seated behind a wooden desk, a single chair in front of it.

 

"Miss Weasley, a pleasure to see you again. Please, sit down," Pansy said with a smile.

 

Ginny sat on the single chair. She looked at the two people on either side of Pansy, one man and one woman, but she didn't recognise either of them.

 

"If you are wondering why you don't recognise either of us, it's because we aren't seen in the wizarding society," the man said, smiling at Ginny.

 

"Or in any society, for that matter," the woman added with a grin. "We are ghosts, even within the Cloffice. You meet us now, and once or twice during training, then you will never see us again," the woman said.

 

"Of course, you may think that you see us," the man said.

 

"A tilt of a hat - " the woman continued.

 

"A certain phrase of words - " the man.

 

"Or perhaps, a shadow - " now both together.

 

The routine was smooth, not as smooth as Fred and George's had been, but it was close. And it was enough to remind Ginny of the brother she had lost. She felt her heart and chest get a little tighter, but she refused to cry. She would cry on Sunday with George by her side, and the thought helped her compose herself.

 

Pansy looked a little bemused at her colleagues antics, but gave Ginny a smile, indicating she could ask a question.

 

"I would normally ask what sort of work you are doing that is making you ghosts within a secret organisation," Ginny said, a slight grin on her face. "But after hearing that, I want to know where George is. George always finishes off with the shadow," Ginny said, looking at the man and woman intently.

 

They were silent, but they didn't rebuke her claim either.

 

"He told you not to use the shadow part," Pansy said to them, shaking her head.

 

"It suited better," the man said with a nonchalant shrug.

 

"Besides, she would have found out sooner or later," the woman added.

 

Neither sounded as guilty as Pansy would have liked. She sighed and nodded reluctantly.

 

"Very well," Pansy said.

 

Drawing her wand from her lap, Pansy flicked it and a panel in a side wall appeared. The panel opened, and George walked out from behind it, grinning at Ginny.

 

"Thought you would have figured it out. What did they say?" George asked.

 

"Shadow," Ginny replied, at which her brother turned and glared at the two unknown people.

 

"I told you not to do that! I probably could have gotten an extra few minutes out of her!" George said, shaking his head.

 

He didn't sound angry, only disappointed, making Ginny curious as to what George actually had to do with the Cloffice.

 

"Oh well. Good luck, sister dearest. I'll see you at the Burrow," George said giving Ginny a wink.

 

He Apparated without giving Ginny a chance to reply.

 

The entire happening had been odd. An understatement, of course, but suddenly Ginny didn't want to know exactly what George had to do with the Cloffice. Now that she thought about it, she was almost certain that she had seen George's red hair in the room where that woman had been undressing...

 

"Can we get on with the interview, now that you have both quite finished?" Pansy asked, looking to the man and woman beside her, a warning in her eyes.

 

"Very well," the woman said, sounding somewhat guilty.

 

The man just nodded, and all three returned their attention to Ginny.

 

 _This has got to be the weirdest job interview I've ever been to_ , she thought to herself.

 

"I believe you already know that you have the job. Well, to be more specific, you have been accepted into the training for the job," Pansy said.

 

Ginny just nodded in response.

 

"Training is held for four months. Then you will put on trial for a month. You will be paid at a lower rate than you are used to during training, but you will be paid at the proper rate once your trial period begins," Pansy said, effectively turning the situation into a professional one. "It helps ward away people who are in the job for the money, instead of for the common goal of protecting our kind," Pansy said.

 

Ginny nodded in understanding, then accepted the parchment Pansy was offering her.

 

"You will require these items in order to complete your training. Most of these things can be acquired in Diagon Alley, or Knockturn Alley if you know where to look," Pansy said. "You will need them during the course of your work as well, so you will not be spending valuable money on unnecessary things. If you are not accepted after training, then I am sure that you will find some use for them," she added, a kinder tone to her voice than Ginny had ever heard before.

 

Ginny looked over the list briefly, wondering why on earth a silver fountain pen would be useful to her when quills were so readily available and, not to mention, cheaper? _And why would she use a Muggle watch when the stars, moon, sun, and shadows could predict the time for her? Or even a wizarding pocket watch, if she needed it_.

 

"Their uses will become more obvious during training," Pansy said. "For now, here is your schedule. You have the rest of the week to prepare and get your things in order. I would suggest moving in with George. His apartment is already on our lists, and it will be far too easy for your parents to discover what you are doing if you are still under their roof. I believe he could do with the extra rent money," Pansy said, half a smile on her face.

 

Ginny's eyes widened and almost fell out of her head when she read her schedule.

 

"Is there a problem with the schedule, Miss Weasley?" Pansy asked.

 

"I have to be here at five in the morning?" Ginny asked.

 

"Wait until you're hired. Then you get to be here at four," the man muttered, in a good-natured way that Ginny definitely didn't expect considering the time of the morning he was mentioning.

 

"We begin training early so that the full day can be taken advantage of. Don't worry, you will become accustomed to the time. I suggest you reset your sleeping pattern for the rest of this week," Pansy said.

 

As Ginny stood up to leave, the woman turned to Pansy, touching her arm.

 

"Portkey, dear," she murmured with a smile.

 

"Oh, yes. Thank you," Pansy said.

 

Pansy opened a drawer, and pulled out a seemingly innocent object, even by wizarding standards. She placed the twisted piece of metal on the desk for Ginny to take.

 

"Take it with the hand that isn't your wand one, and keep it where it won't be obvious, but were you can find it in a hurry. At four fifty-five in the morning, everything is done in a hurry, and the last thing you need is a Portkey that you can't find," Pansy said knowingly.

 

"Good advice," the man said, grinning.

 

"Sound and true," the woman agreed.

 

"Thank you very much. I will see you on Monday," Ginny said, taking the Portkey with her left hand before Apparating to the Burrow.

 

...

 

End of the second chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

"I still don't know why you need to leave home, dear," Molly said, looking at Ginny with a frown.

 

"I just think it's time for me to move out. You and Daddy are always saying how you would travel if we weren't in the house, and I think Ron's capable of looking after himself," Ginny said, paused, then continued with a grin, "Well, you might want to get a babysitter," she said, laughing now.

 

Ron turned red with indignation, spluttered at his sister and finally glared. "I'm older than you; I don't need a babysitter!" he said, folding his arms and turning away.

 

Molly started pampering Ron, and Ginny was glad that she had managed to turn the conversation away from her. George grinned at her knowingly, then left to the lounge room. Ginny saw the time, and followed George quietly. Not quietly enough, as she heard Ron's voice follow her down the corridor.

 

"Where's she going then?" Ron said grumpily, starting to protest her departure.

 

"It's Sunday," Molly replied, the realisation making Ron go quiet.

 

Ginny and George Apparated with loud bangs.

 

...

 

They walked down the all-too-familiar path of the cemetery. Both Ginny and George were silent, as they had had been for the past five years they had been doing this ritual.

 

In the beginning, straight after the war, the cemeteries had been filled with so many people that it was hard for anyone to move around. Now, the cemeteries were only filled to that extent on the annual Deceased Day that had been created in memory for those who had died during the war.

 

As they walked along the path, Ginny noticed a few people around a grave. It was probably the deceased's birthday, or it was some anniversary, or special occasion.

 

Despite how harsh it sounded, even to herself, Ginny hoped that they would leave soon. The way that she and George mourned wasn't appreciated by others.

 

Within a few minutes, the people around the grave Disapparated home, taking a sobbing woman with them.

 

George spread the blanket out while Ginny laid two chocolate frogs on Fred's grave. He never was one for flowers.

 

"Ready, sister dearest?"

 

"Ready, dearest brother," Ginny said with a grin.

 

George held out a hand and helped Ginny onto the blanket before sitting across from her.

 

"I heard a new joke the other day. I thought it was lame, but the guy who told me wouldn't stop laughing," George said, starting the conversation. "He acted as if it was the funniest joke since cheese-bread!"

 

Ginny just shook her head, and passed George his sandwich.

 

"It was just a 'why did the chicken cross the road' joke, at that! Nothing even worth repeating," George muttered, biting into his sandwich.

 

"Well, you're already this far into the story you might as well decrease my IQ and tell me the joke," Ginny replied, starting on her own lunch.

 

"Fine," George said, but obviously not happy about it. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

 

"I don't know, why?"

 

"To get to the other side," George said, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

"What?!" Ginny exclaimed, almost choking on her sandwich. "That's it?!"

 

"He said it was so funny because everyone tries to think of the hundred other answers there are, and never think of the one straight in front of them. I think he was deluded," George said.

 

"Definitely deluded," Ginny agreed.

 

"He didn't believe me when I told him he was," George said, rubbing his jaw with a wince.

 

"The idiot hit you because you didn't like his joke?"

 

"No, the idiot hit me because I started insulting him over his lame joke. I said that he was a menace to public safety, and that hit a nerve I think," he said, grinning.

 

"Yeah, the nerve on your face," Ginny replied, shaking her head at her brother.

 

"Oh, please. That wimp didn't hurt me, especially not with his thumb inside his closed fist," George said.

 

"And did you let him walk around with a broken hand?"

 

"Of course. I love to see people hurt themselves over bad jokes," he said sarcastically, then stopped. "Actually, I do, so that was a bad example. Yes, I healed him. Happy now, Mother?" George taunted his sister, grinning again.

 

"Very," Ginny replied with a grin of her own.

 

"Your turn," George said, nodding at her.

 

"I haven't heard any new jokes this week. Quite disappointing, really," she muttered.

 

"I'll say! All right, onto weekly news..." George said, reaching for a Butterbeer.

 

George launched into his version of weekly news, consisting of who was dating who, who had bought what items in their store - some of which showed a lot about that person's character - and finally, the pranks and new store items.

 

"My personal favourite is the _Spy-Sock_ ," George said, grinning. "It's like the Extendable Ear, but has more features. And it's not as noticeable. Everyone has a spare sock in their drawer, and no one ever thinks that a sock can be listening in on their conversation... It's a bit harder to slip into someone's pocket though. Not everyone has a spare sock in their robe," he mused.

 

"Can't you just make a range of them? A quill is much less noticeable," Ginny offered.

 

"It's harder to work the magic into a quill. They're too whimsy, and easy to break," George replied.

 

"A leaf?" Ginny asked, brushing a leaf from her robe.

 

Witches and wizards always seemed to find leaves or branches in their robes. Something to do with flying and being closer to nature. Ginny still didn't understand it, but she always found a leaf or two in her belongings.

 

"It would be easier for the magic to connect, but they're still too easy to break. Keep thinking," George said, taking another swig of his Butterbeer.

 

"A Knut?"

 

"Can't anymore. After Granger did that spell on the Galleons, and the Ministry found out, they've put protective spells on their money so no one can modify them," he replied, sounding annoyed.

 

Ginny continued to think. It took her a few moments to realise that George had called Hermione 'Granger', something unheard of in the Weasley family. Especially around Ron.

 

"You called her Granger!"

 

George looked embarrassed for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, she annoys me."

 

"Explain how Hermione Granger annoys you," Ginny said, surprised that she was only finding this out now.

 

"Her entire manner is annoying. She acts as if she's so much better than all of us, and she thinks ... " George paled as he realised what he'd said, then shook his head. "Never mind, I just don't like her that much, okay?"

 

"Not okay, George! You're explaining all of this, sooner or later," Ginny said with a glare.

 

"Later, it will make more sense then," George said quickly, offering her a grin.

 

Ginny glowered, but nodded and turned her attention back to Fred's tombstone. Over the top of it, she could see some more mourners arriving at the cemetery.

 

"Mourners," she muttered, almost annoyed at their presence.

 

 _It was a place of sorrow, available to everyone_ , she reminded herself with a wry grin. Dead or alive, pun intended.

 

George nodded and they packed up quickly and efficiently. They had Disapparated in less than five minutes, the Chocolate Frogs the only evidence of their stay.

 

...

 

 _Disapparating after eight Butterbeers was not a good idea_ , Ginny thought to herself as she swayed and her stomach turned.

 

She sat on the couch in George's apartment, putting her head between her legs and trying to regulate her breathing.

 

"Mind if I stay here tonight?" she asked.

 

 _Those eight Butterbeers were definitely not going to let her off lightly_!

 

"Not at all," George replied with a grin. "You'll be living here soon enough anyway, so I'm pretty sure that you can stay and be sick tonight!" he said jovially.

 

"'Kay," Ginny groaned, crawling off to the bathroom.

 

George shook his head after her, then went to make sure she didn't ruin his bathroom.

 

...

 

Pansy sighed, pushing some scrolls away from her. She was tired, and in just a few hours, the sun would rise and she would be dealing with another four recruits for the Cloffice. One of whom was Ginevra Molly Weasley. She was extremely promising, especially if she was half as talented as George said. The other three had some potential, although she had a feeling they would be assigned to one specific field, instead of a range.

 

Pansy felt her throat tighten as she thought of George, and inevitably of Fred. She had loved them both, and even though Fred was gone, she still loved George just as she had before. But he wouldn't let her get close. He would barely look at her, especially if they happened to be alone.

 

She watched him joking and laughing, the sadness beneath his eyes tearing her heart to shreds. His ear was still gone, and he could barely hear with it, but he wasn't letting it hold him back in any way. She admired it, and loved him just all that more for it.

 

Gods', she wanted to hold him, just as she had five years ago. There had been three of them, then. And now, it was just two. George wouldn't want her without Fred.

 

 _It was all in the past_ , she told herself briskly. She wiped the tear that had escaped her control and set her business face on, pulling the scrolls back to her.

 

Just as she had for the past five years, Pansy would throw herself into her work to relieve the pain, or at least to make it nothing more than a dull ache in the back of her mind.

 

...

 

"Come on, sister dearest!" George called, his voice loud and cheerful.

 

 _Too cheerful for the time of the morning_ , Ginny thought to herself blearily.

 

"Time to get up! You don't want to be late, do you?" George said, grinning as he flipped the blanket.

 

Ginny shivered as the cool morning air floated across her skin, and opened an eye to glare at her brother.

 

"Bugger off. Ten more minutes," she groaned.

 

"Not happening, dearest. Get up!" George said, pulling the blanket off completely this time.

 

Ginny tried to reach for the blanket, then sighed and sat up in defeat.

 

"I could hate you," Ginny muttered.

 

"But I'd still love you," George said with a wink.

 

He left before she could reply, whistling cheerfully.

 

She sighed and got off the bed, heading to the bathroom with her robe.

 

...

 

Ginny rummaged through her robes, trying to find the piece of twisted metal she'd put in one of the pockets. Finally finding the metal, Ginny carefully tied a piece of string around it, then attached it to the inner loop in her robe pocket.

 

"See you in the office some time," George said, grinning.

 

He stepped into the fireplace, and Flooed with a wave.

 

Ginny shook her head. Sighing, she still couldn't believe that she had been woken up before four thirty. She was just grateful that George had forced her to have a sobering potion the night before, or else she would have had a hangover as well.

 

At quarter to five, Ginny took hold of the Portkey.

 

Quickly brushing her robe off, Ginny looked around, wondering where she had to report to. The reception area looked vaguely familiar, as did the witch behind the front desk. She was the same witch who had been at _The Quibbler_.

 

"Good morning, Miss Weasley. It's a pleasure to have you on board at _The Quibbler_. I look forward to reading your articles. Please follow the red parchment to your office. The editor will meet you at seven to explain your job description in more detail," the witch added as Ginny went to ask a question. "You can get a feel for your office until then," she said cheerfully, smiling.

 

With a nod, Ginny followed the red parchment to her 'office'. It was the same plain door she'd entered last week for her interview, but the interior was completely different. It was what she had originally expected: a fireplace for Floo's and firecalls, a desk with a few quills scattered on the top and drawers on the side, filled with messy newspaper and magazine articles of importance, a chair that seemed to be broken, the carpet was lost beneath stacks of more newspapers and magazines, the bookcase was holding everything from trinkets and charms, but apparently no books, and the tiny window was covered in soot.

 

 _Had something gone wrong at the Cloffice, and she was now expected to work as a journalist for_ The Quibbler? she wondered. As much as she enjoyed reading the magazine, Ginny doubted she would be able to write anything worth publishing!

 

"You're early, Miss Weasley," a voice said from the fireplace.

 

Ginny turned to see Pansy stepping out of the green flames. She almost sagged in relief.

 

"Everyone who works at _The Quibbler_ thinks that you work here too," Pansy said, ignoring Ginny's look of relief. "The witch at the front desk doesn't know about the Cloffice any more than the rest of the wizarding population. You'll be expected to come in every morning for a five o'clock start, write and research for the entire day, and hand something into the editor by five that night," Pansy said.

 

Pansy looked at the desk as if it was a three-headed Flobberworm, and tried not to breathe.

 

"Am I expected to do all of that while working at the Cloffice as well?" Ginny asked, the mere prospect horrifying.

 

"Of course not. We expect you to train at the Cloffice from five until eight that night. You cannot train with us and have another job on the side; it's just not possible. Someone in the Cloffice has been hired to write articles for you. They will be on your editor's desk at four thirty sharp every evening. And you will have a copy sent to the apartment the night before printing so you will be able to look over what you have supposedly written," Pansy informed her.

 

Ginny let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, and thanked the gods' silently. They knew that her mother would read every single article she published and then she would be tested every time she went to the Burrow.

 

"I suggest you spend some time this morning cleaning your area to better suit your style. You will have to see this every morning and night, and I sincerely doubt that it will be pleasant," Pansy drawled.

 

She would have shuddered when something on the desk actually moved, but Pansy had been trained by the Cloffice and could hold her emotions better than that.

 

 _Except when it came to George_ , a cruel inner voice reminded her.

 

"I need to go attend to the other recruits. Once you have finished in this ... _office_ , use the Floo system to get to the Cloffice. Just say 'Cloffice' and it will let you through," Pansy said.

 

She didn't wait for Ginny to respond, simply Apparating to the next workplace.

 

Ginny looked at the office again and shut her eyes, willing herself the strength to get through the morning.

 

...

 

An hour later, Ginny was finally pleased with the state of the office.

 

The chair was mended and no longer smelled of spilled coffee. The drawers had been emptied, the newspaper and magazine articles filed or discarded. The quills that had been scattered were now in the top drawer, along with an ink pot (found beneath the desk, amazingly unbroken) and other stationery.

 

The colour of the carpet could actually be identified as grey, and the window was no longer covered in a film of soot and grease. The bookcase was tidied, and now holding actual books as well as the trinkets and charms.

 

Fixing her robe and cleaning herself up, Ginny threw some Floo powder in the fireplace and stepped inside the green flames with ease.

 

"Cloffice," she said clearly.

 

As her newly cleaned office disappeared from her sight, Ginny wondered who _The Quibbler_ 's editor would meet in her absence.

 

...

 

"Welcome to the Cloffice's training centre. Please, take a seat while I inform the director of your arrival," a wizard said with a smile, indicating to the seats behind Ginny.

 

She thanked him, and headed over to the seats. One person was already waiting there, a witch she didn't recognise, but Ginny assumed that she was one of the other recruits Pansy had mentioned. The witch looked a bit apprehensive, the same way that Ginny was feeling.

 

"Hi, I'm Morrigan," the witch said, smiling despite the nerves resounding in her voice.

 

"A pleasure to meet you, Morrigan. I'm Ginny," she replied, shaking her hand.

 

"I'm so glad that someone else arrived. I've been here since five thirty after I finished cleaning my office. I thought that I was going to be the only one!" Morrigan said, her voice breathless. "Are you as nervous as I am? I mean, everything that this represents! It's just amazing!" Morrigan barely finished one sentence before continuing onto the next. "I was so shocked when they offered this to me. I mean, I wasn't anything special where I worked before, so this is just ... " she trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.

 

Morrigan continued to talk to Ginny, her rapid speech forcing Ginny to pay attention just to keep up. Ten minutes later, another person arrived via Portkey. She walked over to the seats, sized up both Ginny and Morrigan in a way that only women can, then sat at the very edge of the seats, ignoring Morrigan's attempts to introduce herself and Ginny.

 

"She must have a broom up her arse or something," Morrigan said in a voice that wasn't quite a whisper.

 

The woman stiffened slightly, then set her jaw and proceeded to ignore them with even more fervour.

 

"She's probably just as nervous as we are, but won't show it," Ginny said, then turned to Morrigan again. "So what did you do before you came here?"

 

That started Morrigan on her job as an experimenter within the Ministry's Department of Potions and Mixtures. It was pretty much as it was titled: Morrigan's job had been to find out what mixture of different herbs and ingredients would create a potion worth using. She would have shown Ginny her scars from some particularly nasty results, but then the fourth recruit arrived.

 

As he walked over to the seats, Morrigan stopped talking and her jaw dropped slightly. The wizard had short brown hair, bright blue eyes and a chiseled jaw that only caused imaginations to fall into the gutter at the thought of the rest of his body. He grinned at Ginny and Morrigan, the action illuminating his face and brightening his eyes considerably.

 

"Hi, I'm Jordan," he introduced, holding a hand out to shake.

 

Ginny shook his hand and introduced herself. She had to nudge Morrigan before she would come out of her stupor and introduce herself.

 

"Morrigan. Great to meet you," she gushed, her face going a shade of red as she realised that she'd been staring.

 

Jordan grinned again, then went to introduce himself to the other woman. She would have ignored him, but Ginny didn't think that the woman had that much willpower.

 

"Claudia," she said, shaking his hand and looking at him with unhindered desire.

 

Jordan looked a bit uncomfortable, and withdrew his hand. There was a minute of uncomfortable silence, but then Morrigan's nerves couldn't stand it and she started talking to Ginny once more. Jordan joined in, seemingly thankful to find out that he wasn't the only nervous one. Claudia returned to ignoring them once more.

 

Pansy walked in a few minutes later, smiling briefly when she saw them all talking animatedly. _Well, almost all_.

 

"It's not that dangerous, really. You just need to know about the properties of plants and other ingredients," Morrigan said.

 

Jordan still looked impressed at her previous job, and said as much, making Morrigan go bright red.

 

"Pansy's here," Ginny said quietly, and Morrigan stopped talking quickly, looking over to the front desk where Pansy was standing.

 

"If you will all follow me, I can show you around Training Centre One," Pansy said.

 

She turned and walked away without waiting.

 

Claudia was the first one after her. Ginny and Jordan waited as Morrigan picked up her multiple bags, trying to find a quill and parchment.

 

"Got it. Sorry," Morrigan said with a guilty grin.

 

She shrank her bags and put them in her pocket, then they hurried after Pansy and Claudia.

 

"Thank you for joining us," Pansy said in a clipped tone.

 

Claudia looked smug.

 

"Why didn't you wait with them?" Pansy asked Claudia in the same tone, wiping the smug grin off her face quickly.

 

"I ... " she trailed off, unable to think of a response.

 

"You will be training together for the better part of the next four months, so I suggest that you work on a pleasant atmosphere, if you cannot all be friends," Pansy said, then turned and continued down the corridor.

 

On hearing Pansy's words, Ginny was surprised to say the least. _A Slytherin was encouraging them to be friends_? In her school days, it would have been unheard of, and as it was, Ginny had to remind herself that she was no longer at Hogwarts with House prejudices.

 

"This is Training Centre One. There are four training centres around England, and you will spend one month in each as you progress in your training. All of the locations are kept secret, even to some of the highest ranking Cloffice officials. The views shown in the windows are magically simulated, so don't be surprised if you see Big Ben one day, and the Stonehenge the next," Pansy said with a slight grin. "Your schedules have been sent to your workplace desks. No one else will see them, so don't fret over someone accidentally noticing it."

 

"What are we supposed to do today if we don't have our schedules now?" the question seemed to burst out of Morrigan.

 

"I will be showing you the entire centre for today, to give you a feel for the layout of the building. Don't worry if you get lost over the next few weeks. It takes some time to remember all of the right corridors," she added, and Morrigan looked relieved. "We are on the ground floor at the moment. It is a general area to report and catch up with friends, or colleagues, so there are a few bathroom facilities and a very large cafeteria. There is also gym facilities available at any time of the day or night, and it is recommended that you make use of it, as it will help with your training. The cafeteria can be accessed in six different ways, although we do ask that you try not to go through the kitchen. If you do enter in via the kitchen staff entrance, you will be serving lunch instead of eating it," Pansy said.

 

They laughed a little nervously, stopping when they realised that Pansy was serious. Claudia looked ill at the prospect of serving food to someone.

 

Pansy stopped at a yellow door, turning to look at the recruits again.

 

"It's the breakfast break now, so the noise may startle you," she warned, then walked into the cafeteria. "The yellow door is the kitchen entrance," Pansy added, having to raise her voice over the kitchen's noise.

 

People were calling orders and questions, pots and pans were rattling, sizzling and bubbling in every corner of the room. As they neared the front of the cafeteria, the noise increased. Hundreds of recruits were sitting at tables scattered around the room, others were standing and talking to the serving staff. Every so often someone noticed Pansy and called out to her, grinning at the new recruits in a secretive way. Pansy just raised her hand in return, then led them back out to the corridor, away from the noise and distraction.

 

She showed them the gymnasium, a range of equipment available, both Muggle and wizard. In the corner of one room was a large wireless. As they entered music began, only stopping when Pansy hit it with her wand.

 

"The wireless will turn on as soon as you enter the room. You can change the type of music to suit your preferences. It will go to general music if there's more than one person in the room," Pansy said.

 

She led them out of the gymnasium, and headed down the corridor.

 

"Each floor contains five classrooms," Pansy said as she started down a staircase. "In the rooms on the first floor you will learn basic Muggle self defence, basic wizard defence, health and nutrition. Inside of the fourth room you will learn to fine tune your Apparation skills so that you can do it as loud or quiet as you prefer, or Apparate within a few centimetres of yourself. The fifth classroom is specifically for basic healing," Pansy said.

 

The stopped outside of one room, and Pansy indicated for them to look into the window. There were six people inside, paired off and punching at each other, kicking, or throwing each other on the floor. Their wands were nowhere in sight, something unheard of.

 

"Muggle self defence. It may seem crude, but it often has the ability to surprise opponents," Pansy said.

 

"How does it surprise them?" Jordan asked curiously.

 

"If you are disarmed, then your opponent will think you weak. Imagine their surprise when you are still able to fight back even without your wand," Pansy said. "It will be discussed in the class, so let's continue on," she said, going to the next room.

 

They looked in this window, and this scene was familiar to Ginny. It reminded her of the DA room they used in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. There was a dummy in the middle of the room, a clear area on either side for target practice, and hexes and spells. Four people were inside, throwing hexes at each other with fierce determination.

 

Pansy led them to the next room. They were surprised to see a kitchen, tables and chairs with a large blackboard nearby. Various fruit and vegetables were listed on the boards, and the students inside were arguing over tomatoes. From the kitchen large flames rose as someone prepared a meal under the watchful eye of a nearby chef.

 

"We can enter the Apparation room. It is good for the recruits to understand what distractions can do while they're Apparating," Pansy said, smirking.

 

They went inside, attempting to be quiet. Pansy on the other hand, brought her wand out, loud noises erupting and making them all jump.

 

"Splinched!" a recruit shouted.

 

"I said to concentrate! Noises should mean nothing when you're Apparating!" the person in charge yelled angrily, fixing up the splinched person with ease.

 

"Nice one, Pansy. Scare the living shit out of them, why don't you?" someone muttered beside them.

 

The four recruits turned to look at who had spoken to Pansy in such a tone. Ginny paled when she recognised the person as none other than Draco Malfoy.

 

"That was the idea, Draco. Return to your Apparating," Pansy said, waving him off dismissively. "And don't think I can't see you there, Blaise. You're not as quiet as you think you are," she turned, glaring at Blaise Zabini, who had Apparated silently behind her.

 

"Did you see him Apparate?" Morrigan asked quietly, her eyes wide.

 

Ginny shook her head.

 

"Recruits! Return to your stations!" the person yelled at Draco and Blaise.

 

They smirked at each other, and Apparated without a sound. Ginny stared at them for about a minute, surprised at their presence.

 

"Let's continue to the next room, shall we?" Pansy said.

 

 _She was annoyed at Draco and Blaise's behaviour. They should know better than to do that to her, especially when she was with new recruits. Although, Ginevra's facial expression_ ** _had_** _been amusing_...

 

"This room, as I mentioned earlier, is to do with healing. You practice healing magic as well as Muggle healing methods on dummies that have various maladies," Pansy said.

 

There was no window to look into, so they had to take Pansy's word for it.

 

"Do you have any questions?" Pansy asked, grinning at Morrigan for a split second.

 

"If we aren't able to finish training, what happens to us?" Morrigan asked.

 

"Your memories are modified. We cannot have any of this leaking to the public. They would not understand, and I assure you that most witches and wizards are quite content believing that the Aurors and Ministry are keeping them safe," Pansy replied.

 

"Do we return to our previous jobs?" Ginny asked curiously.

 

"No. Unfortunately that results in far too many memory modifications. You believe that you lost your job, and have spent the last few weeks or months wallowing in self pity. The Cloffice keeps an eye on the people so that they don't attempt to do something harmful," Pansy added. "A few people have been recorded to dream about the Cloffice, but they fade after a few months."

 

"Where are the bathrooms?" Morrigan asked, barely quelling her urgency.

 

"Oh, of course. The women's bathrooms are at the end of the corridor, and on the right. Men's are on the left. You can all have a break. I will meet you upstairs in the cafeteria in five minutes," Pansy said, going back down the corridor.

 

Morrigan waited until Pansy was out of sight, then practically ran down to the end of the corridor. The others followed. Jordan hurried to the men's room, the door practically slamming behind him. Claudia only went into the bathroom because she didn't want to stand in the corridor alone. Ginny went inside to try and compose herself.

 

 _Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were recruited by the Cloffice. It did seem to make sense, if she thought about it_.

 

After the war, they'd both gone abroad to escape the public scrutiny. They'd returned after two years, both still bachelors to the surprise of a lot of people. There were a few balls to welcome the Malfoy and Zabini heirs back to England, and the usual Malfoy Annual Ball was held with every politician and Ministry bigwig invited. Again, surprising everyone, they had both decided to go job hunting. Not for the money, obviously, but for something to do. Sitting at home all day wasn't all it was cracked up to be, no matter how luxurious the surroundings. They'd both secured Ministry jobs easily, and in less than six months, they had climbed to the top of the ladder as if it was nothing more than a matter of stepping over a puddle. Then, a month ago, they'd both quit. Rumours and theories flew around tables for some time, until an interview was conducted with them. They both said that the working life wasn't what they wanted anymore, and they were content to simply attend various balls worldwide instead. They'd apparently done exactly that, disappearing off the earth without so much as a smirk.

 

Now, Ginny knew where they had disappeared to.

 

She had to get her breathing under control, then she could deal with her mind. She'd gone into some sort of shock at seeing them, and had left her mind wide open. She hadn't missed Pansy's look of amusement, and that was enough to make her put the barriers up even stronger than before.

 

It didn't help that they had actually matured and were good looking. Harry melted to the back recess of her mind as she imagined their faces again.

 

_Draco was pale as usual, his face not as pointy as it once had been as a child. His shoulders were broader too, and she could practically imagine his body. It would be firm, and since he would use the gym, he would have muscles too. Nothing too obnoxious, Draco would have subtle muscles, ones that would be seen better with a sheen of sexual sweat._

 

 _Blaise looked every part the Italian god he had as a teen, only not so much as a poser this time. Now, he would most likely have the knowledge that he used to pretend he had at Hogwarts. He would know how to make love to a woman, making sure to bring her to the peak_ ...

 

"Ginny? Are you all right?" Morrigan called, knocking on the cubicle door lightly.

 

Ginny flushed as she realised what she'd been thinking, and more specifically, who she'd been thinking about.

 

 _Not good, Ginny_ , she scolded herself.

 

"Fine. I'll be out in a minute," she called back to Morrigan.

 

"Okay," Morrigan said.

 

She left the bathroom and Ginny sighed. She left the cubicle in a few minutes and looked at herself as she washed her hands. She was slightly pale, most likely from the shock of seeing Draco and Blaise so close.

 

"Get a grip on yourself, Ginny," she muttered.

 

Only one week ago she'd been a successful witch within the Ministry. She had seen Draco and Blaise around the Ministry before, and had never had this kind of reaction. But then, she hadn't seen them this close. Hadn't been able to smell their expensive cologne, the scent fogging her senses... But she would remain in control. She had kept herself in control with every promotion she received at the Ministry, she had focused on the job she was doing. One hundred and ten percent. And she would do the same now. She wouldn't let them affect her.

 

Ginny splashed her face with water, dried herself off and hurried out of the bathroom where the other three were waiting.

 

"Sorry about the delay," she said quickly, grinning apologetically.

 

They headed up the corridor, towards the stairs.

 

"Don't apologise. I'm not even sure if I can get the butterflies to stop so that I can eat," Morrigan said with a grin.

 

"We're in training, what do you have to be nervous about?" Claudia asked.

 

There was a sneer to her voice, but it seemed like she tried to suppress it.

 

"A lot," Morrigan answered. "Training means a lot of opportunities for me to stuff up," she said, grinning.

 

Claudia looked wary. They were all silent as they headed up the stairs and towards the cafeteria.

 

Ginny looked around, trying to spot where Pansy was. She saw her on the other side of the cafeteria, surrounded by recruits.

 

"Geez, she's popular," Morrigan said. "Where are we going to sit then? Is there a table free anywhere?"

 

"I think there's one over this way," Jordan said, heading to a corner of the cafeteria.

 

The others followed him quickly.

 

"That's our table," a male voice growled a minute or two after they'd sat down.

 

The looked up to see four angry males surrounding the table. They were all intimidating, with large muscles and their wands in their hands.

 

Ginny gritted her teeth at how this was reminding her of Hogwarts and the Common Room. Everyone had sat in their own little groups, guarding seats and tables for friends even when others had no where to sit, and she had loathed the territorial divisions even back then.

 

 _She really loathed this kind of childish behaviour, especially when it came from adults! They should know better_... Ginny's temper flared and she pushed herself out her seat angrily.

 

"Just exactly how is it _your_ table?" she growled, glaring at him.

 

The men all spluttered at her response, and started to turn red in anger.

 

"Gentlemen, I do believe my friend here has misunderstood the seating arrangements in the cafeteria," a voice cut in smoothly.

 

Ginny would have glared and told Malfoy to fuck off, but he gave her a look of warning and her temper stilled.

 

"She a friend of yours then, Malfoy?" one of the guys leered.

 

"Quite, I have known her since Hogwarts," Draco replied. "Get your friends away this instant, Ginevra," he hissed at her, then returned his attention to the four men. "I'm sure you would all agree that Hogwarts is a far better magical institution than any of the others England has to offer. Beaubaxtons, for instance," he drawled, as if offended by the school's name itself.

 

"I went to Beaubaxtons. You got a problem with it?" one of the men growled.

 

"Oh, of course not. I'm sure your tutelage there will greatly benefit in the fourth week," Draco said, the hint of a smirk on his mouth.

 

"You're in your fourth week?" one of them asked curiously.

 

"Not yet, but you've all heard the rumours, I'm sure," Draco said, the smirk there in full now.

 

The men grinned at each other, a secret smile on their faces. Ginny wasn't sure she wanted to know what the rumours about the fourth week were.

 

As Draco had been talking, Ginny had ushered the other three back from the table. They all stood back, not sure what to do, simply watching as Draco defused the angry situation that had formed. As the four men sat down, complacent once more, Pansy rose from her chair and applauded Draco, a smirk on her face.

 

"Congratulations, Draco Malfoy. Ginevra, you used exactly the kind of temperamental outburst that we condone against. You will be an excellent before and after. **If** you complete the first four weeks," Pansy said with a grin.

 

It took Ginny a moment to realise that Pansy was talking to her, and she was complimenting her. Sort of.

 

"And you four," Pansy continued, her tone scathing now. "This is not school, and the table doesn't belong to you. Get to my office the moment you finish lunch. Understood?" she said, glaring at them in a way that made all of the four grown men pale and nod.

 

Everyone returned to their lunch, and Ginny shook her head in disbelief.

 

_They were acting as if it was a daily occurrence!_

 

"So where do we sit now?" Morrigan asked.

 

Her question brought Ginny out of her thoughts and she looked around the cafeteria. Since those four muscle-heads had taken their seats, every table was now occupied.

 

"You may sit with us, if you care to join us," Blaise offered, grinning at Ginny.

 

"We'd love to," Claudia said immediately, sounding breathless.

 

Ginny wanted to roll her eyes at Claudia, but refrained with some difficulty. Morrigan, on the other hand, did roll her eyes, and batted her eyelashes mockingly. The action made Ginny tremble as she tried to repress her laughter.

 

Claudia led the way and the others followed, Ginny somewhat reluctantly. Blaise was looking at her like he knew what she had been thinking about him only ten minutes ago.

 

...

 

Ginny arrived at the apartment, feeling completely exhausted. She mumbled a brief 'hello' to George, then collapsed on the lounge.

 

It was the end of her third day of training at the Cloffice's Training Centre One. After getting into the Cloffice at five in the morning, they had started by looking at three different kinds of both Muggle and wizard weaponry, continued by an hour of exercise, an hour of nutrition, and then two straight hours of Apparation and Disapparation practice. After lunch had been more training, this time in self defence and attacking, basic healing that didn't seem quite so basic, more Apparation tuning, and then some fitness training.

 

Pansy had said that the gym was 'recommended'. The thought made Ginny laugh. Slightly hysterically at that...

 

"Tough day at the office?" George asked with a chuckle.

 

"How did you survive the first week?" Ginny groaned, rolling over and wincing with every movement.

 

George laughed again, this time grabbing a chair and sitting in front of her.

 

"I think it was sheer willpower and determination that kept me going. It was a month after Fred had died, and I felt like I was being given a second chance. I was being given the chance to help someone in the way that I couldn't help Fred."

 

"It wasn't your fault," Ginny said, sitting up quickly, her pain forgotten for the moment.

 

"I know that, dearest sister. Everyone says that, and after five years, I can agree with them. But there's this small voice in the back of my mind saying that I could have used this spell, or this charm, or done something else a certain way, and then Fred would still be alive."

 

"And if you had done that spell, or that charm, or done something else a certain way, would you still be alive?"

 

She was given no answer, which was answer enough.

 

"If you had done any of that, then it would be Fred sitting here saying the exact same thing," she said quietly, hugging George tightly.

 

He nodded briefly, and attempted to give her a smile.

 

"Don't put on that face with me, brother dearest. I know you too well. Now go sit down and I'll make dinner," Ginny said.

 

"If you know me so well then you would know that I already ordered Chinese," he answered, a chuckle escaping again.

 

 _If you knew me at all, you would know the loss I still feel every day. And not just for my brother, but also for our lover_.

 

...

 

End of the third chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Ginny Apparated to where the small red spot was located on the ground, missing it by a few centimetres. She cursed under her breath, returned to her original spot and tried again. She missed yet again.

 

It continued this way for the better part of an hour...

 

Return. Apparate. Miss.

 

Return. Concentrate. Aim. Apparate. Closer, but still a miss.

 

Get excited that it was closer.

 

Return. Apparate. Miss completely.

 

_Damn feelings for putting her off._

 

Return. Concentrate. Aim. Apparate. _Miss_.

 

Return. Concentrate. Aim. Apparate. Closer.

 

Return. Concentrate harder. Aim, don't blink.

 

**BANG.**

 

Jump at the loud noise. _Thank the gods' that at least she didn't get splinched again._

 

Get yelled at by an instructor who makes Ivor the Horrible look like a carefree Pygmy.

 

Start all over again.

 

Return. Concentrate, this time channelling anger and loathing towards the instructor. Aim, _don't blink_. Apparate. Closer even still.

 

Return. Concentrate, channel energy. Aim, don't blink. Apparate. Get the mark.

 

Start again, this time with _more_ noises.

 

Ginny had splinched herself three times by the end of the hour, and still couldn't feel her stomach when lunch came around. Claudia had splinched herself once, fainted from shock and was taken to the infirmary for the rest of the lesson.

 

 _Lucky bitch_ , Ginny thought with a grimace.

 

"She won't be at lunch, at least," Jordan said to Morrigan with a grin.

 

Pansy's advice for them to be friendly to each other hadn't worked so well in practice.

 

"Good. Her ga-ga eyes are making go round the twist," Morrigan said, rolling her eyes. "It's almost enough to make me lose my lunch!"

 

They all laughed at this, Morrigan's appetite not even put off after five splinches.

 

"I might go to the gym before lunch. I want to see if I can get some feeling back into my intestines before I attempt to eat," Ginny said with a grin.

 

"Do you want us to come with you?" Morrigan offered.

 

"I'm sure I can sweat like a pig on my own. Thanks anyway," Ginny replied, chuckling as she headed up to the gym.

 

As Ginny entered the gym, the wireless switched on. At a flick of her wand, the wireless started to pump out loud music that had a definite beat to it. Stripping down to a pair of shorts and singlet that were constantly beneath her clothes, Ginny did some brief exercises designed to warm up her body, then sat on the Muggle rowing machine.

 

She patted her stomach but still couldn't feel anything.

 

She moved her arms in time with the music, and was so intent on her rhythm that she didn't even notice when the music was replaced with the general tunes.

 

Ginny did however, realise that something was different when she smelt two certain scents. Ones that had been haunting her more often than they should. Ones that belonged to two people who were in her mind more than they should be, as well. She would have groaned in complaint, but that would have aroused too many questions.

 

"Draco, Blaise. Come to exercise?" Ginny asked.

 

She got off the rowing machine, acting as if she wanted to go on the Muggle bicycle next. She just didn't want to be at ground level while they were still standing above her.

 

"That's generally what the gym is for, Ginevra," Draco said, smirking at her.

 

Everyone started calling her Ginevra after Pansy had said her name. Only Jordan and Morrigan were still calling her 'Ginny', something that was oddly comforting in a building full of strangers who knew your full name. Ginny found herself thinking that she didn't mind Draco and Blaise using her first name.

 

 _Dangerous thoughts_ , Ginny warned herself, then forced her mind on the bicycle and movement of her legs.

 

She told herself not to be distracted as Draco and Blaise stripped down to their shorts and singlets - it seemed everyone wore them beneath their clothes - and then told herself not to stare at their bodies, even if they were exactly how she had imagined them a week ago.

 

Ginny could see the smirks on their faces as they started exercising in front of her, purposely stretching and encouraging her over-active imagination.

 

She could almost hate them. _Almost_.

 

...

 

"We've got dinner at the Burrow tonight, sister dearest. Would you like me to make apologies, or are you up for it?" George asked as she stepped out of the Floo.

 

Ginny was sore, tired, irritable, and really did _not_ want to deal with her mother tonight. But she knew that if she didn't go to the Burrow for dinner, then she would hear all about it next time. _How wonderful everything had been, how quiet the children were, how Molly had been so upset that her only daughter wouldn't spend time with her, even after everything she had done for her in the past twenty-one years_. It would **never** end.

 

"I'm going to have a shower, and there had better be a strong Calming Draught when I get out," Ginny grumbled.

 

As she showered and attempted to work the kinks out of her shoulders, Ginny realised that she hadn't read _The Quibbler_ that afternoon, as she usually did with her lunch. She swore softly, and the knot of tension she had just worked out of her back returned, seemingly double the size.

 

Muttering to herself, Ginny finished washing herself, stepped out of the shower, did a fast and effective drying spell, and changed into her clothes in record time.

 

"I need _The Quibbler_ too, George!" she called at the door as she was changing, hoping he would hear her.

 

"I'm not your mother!" she heard him say.

 

"I know that, but do you really want to face her when I haven't read today's issue?" Ginny called back, grinning now.

 

"One issue of _The Quibbler_ , coming up!"

 

Ginny laughed and hurried to put her boots on.

 

...

 

George was waiting by the fireplace, a Calming Draught in one hand and _The Quibbler_ in the other.

 

"We can only be another five minutes. Any later and we'll surpass Ron's tardiness time," George said.

 

Ginny shuddered. Almost three years ago, Ron had arrived a whole fifteen minutes late for a Burrow dinner without an explanation. Molly had taken Ron aside and said something that left an obvious impression on him. Not only had he been on time for every Burrow dinner since then, but Ron still flinched whenever someone mentioned the word 'tardiness'.

 

She grabbed _The Quibbler_ from George, hurried to the article she had supposedly written, and skim read it. It would have to do, and Ginny would just have to hope that Molly didn't question her on the article. _Yeah, right_.

 

George and Ginny arrived at the Burrow with three minutes to spare.

 

"You were almost late," Ron said, grinning at them.

 

" _Almost_ being the key word there, brother," George replied with a wink.

 

"Three games of chess," he said as they walked inside.

 

"One game each and tickets to the Chudley Cannons game next weekend," Ginny bartered.

 

"Done," Ron said.

 

"Oh, there you are! I was just about to go get Arthur to check the clock for you," Molly scolded.

 

"They've been here a while, Mum. I was talking to them outside," Ron said, covering for them easily.

 

"Oh, Ronnie-kins. You know I worry when I don't know when everyone's here," she reprimanded lightly.

 

"Yes, sorry Mum," Ron replied. 

 

"Where'd you get Chudley tickets from?" George murmured to Ginny as they sat down.

 

"Apparently, I get them for working at _The Quibbler._ I was going to give them to him as a surprise anyway, but this is better," she replied, grinning.

 

"Nice. What else do you get for working there?" George asked, grinning.

 

"Free copies of _The Quibbler_ , and a plush toy of a Nargle," Ginny said sarcastically.

 

"What, no trips to the swamps of Africa to look for rare and most likely invisible creatures?"

 

"You only get that after three years of working there. Presuming you haven't died in the tombs of Egypt."

 

"What are you two giggling about down there?" Molly called, looking at them with a slight smile as she passed George his plate.

 

"Ginny's job," George replied with a grin, taking the plate.

 

"Oh, that's nice... I quite enjoyed the article you wrote today, dear. I didn't know that peacocks and phoenixes were so closely related," Molly said.

 

Ginny went blank for a minute. _She hadn't written that... At least, she hadn't_ ** _read_** _that she'd written it_. Then she felt George tap her leg twice. _Molly was lying, trying to make her slip up_.

 

"I didn't write that article, Mother," Ginny said, taking her offered plate. "Mine was on the properties of dragon blood and how Albus Dumbledore benefited the wizarding community by discovering them."

 

"Oh yes, of course. How silly of me," Molly said, flustered.

 

 _Sneaky witch_ , Ginny thought to herself.

 

...

 

"I cannot _believe_ her!" Ginny exploded the moment she and George arrived in their apartment. "It's as if she doesn't trust me or something!"

 

"What, trust that you are doing a job, which you aren't actually doing? Or trust that you're not putting yourself in danger, which you are?" George replied, grinning.

 

"Well, _she_ doesn't know that," Ginny muttered, pouting. Then she sighed, rubbing her face wearily. "I don't care anymore. I'm going to bed, all right? I'll see you tomorrow morning, dearest brother," she said affectionately, hugging him.

 

"All right. Have a restful sleep, sister dearest," he murmured.

 

"You too," Ginny replied, then pulled away and trudged to her room, muttering under her breath.

 

George watched her go with an amused smile on his face.

 

...

 

Sunday passed by fairly quickly. Ginny and George spent their entire day at the cemetery, talking with Fred about what Ginny had done at Cloffice in the past week.

 

"So where do you think Harry was yesterday? He was supposed to be there for dinner, wasn't he?" George asked curiously.

 

Ginny started slightly at the mention of her boyfriend's name. She had hardly thought about him in the past week, and realising it now made her feel guilty.

 

"I don't know. He must have been busy," Ginny said. "Did he send apologies to Mum?"

 

"Owl, I think. She was miffed that he didn't firecall personally," George replied, grinning.

 

"I'll bet she would have been," she muttered, shaking her head.

 

"He was probably just busy with Auror work," George said after a moment of silence.

 

"Probably... It's getting dark," Ginny murmured.

 

"Then we shall leave before the monsters in the dark come upon you!" George said gallantly, laughing when Ginny glared at him.

 

...

 

Ginny woke up at four in the morning, mere seconds before George knocked on her door, even managing to do that in an overly cheerful manner.

 

"I'm up!" she called, thankful he hadn't just come in with a bucket of water as he had done two times last week.

 

"Good, get in the shower!" George called.

 

Ginny rolled her shoulders, grabbed her bathrobe from the end of her bed and left her nice warm bed to head to the cold bathroom.

 

She could understand the need to fit in as much as possible into the training. Every week they were learning a new topic, attempting to fit years' worth of magical training into a four month program. In the last week alone, Ginny had managed to fine tune her Apparation skills so that she could land on an inked dot without more than half a second of concentration, and even that was done with loud noises and distractions. She had learnt things about nutrition, healing, and self defence that she never would have learnt on her own, or without some exterior motive. What Ginny _couldn't_ understand is why they were so intent on making everything so gods' damned early in the morning! She could have just as easily learnt everything at night time, when it was easier to get up and concentrate without needing three pure shots of caffeine injected into her bloodstream.

 

She finished her shower, dried herself and hair off, then changed quickly.

 

"You're getting quicker," George said as she came out of the bathroom.

 

"What?" Ginny asked, frowning as she turned to look at the clock. "Fifteen minutes?!"

 

Molly had tried for years to get her children to cut down on the amount of time they spent in the shower, having no luck with any of them, especially with Ginny. She had been undisturbed in the shower - a blessing in a house of nine - and Ginny had always sought her peace of mind and privacy within the three walls of the shower cubicle.

 

"Mother would be so proud," George drawled, smirking at her.

 

Ginny muttered under her breath, then headed to the kitchen to have breakfast for the first time in over a week.

 

...

 

End of the fourth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

_Flowers. When has Harry ever sent flowers_? a voice in the back of her mind asked. Harry was not the romantic type, and she'd never gotten flowers before, even on anniversaries. These were a surprise, as was the card asking - _demanding, don't you mean_? - to meet her for lunch.

Ginny didn't know what to do. She couldn't go to the Cloffice now. But it wasn't like she could do anything for _The Quibbler_ either... In a moment of panic, she made a firecall to Pansy. Pansy's head floated in the green flames, and her eyebrow raised when she saw Ginny standing there, wringing her hands.

"Ginevra? Is something wrong? Are you and George okay?" Pansy asked quickly, a frown flitting onto her face.

"Fine. George is fine," Ginny replied absent-mindedly. "Harry sent me flowers and wants to go to lunch. What do I do?" she asked desperately.

"That's all? Come and train, then go to lunch. Simple," Pansy said with a shrug. "We're not holding you here hostage."

"I know," Ginny said, suddenly feeling foolish.

"See you soon," Pansy said, closing off the call.

Ginny closed her end, and wondered why she hadn't thought of that herself. _What was so hard about that? She could train for the morning, go out to lunch, and go back afterwards. It wasn't like no one else had done that before... Why had she called Pansy_?

 _You wanted her to say no. You wanted to go to the gym at lunch and see Draco and Blaise_ , the little voice returned, sounding smug.

"Shut up," she muttered, then Flooed to the Cloffice.

...

"You are not concentrating! You need to concentrate on keeping your mind closed! I can feel every emotion in your mind!"

Ginny watched as the female teacher yelled at Claudia. She made Mad Eye Moody look like a fluffy bunny rabbit.

"Stop your crying, girl! Close your eyes and CONCENTRATE!"

Claudia whimpered, and Morrigan squeezed Ginny's hand, looking pale. "I don't want to go next. Want to swap?" she whispered.

Ginny wasn't sure she wanted to either, but did so for her friend's sake.

"For goodness sakes, girl. Go sit down! NEXT!"

Claudia sniffed, rubbing at her tears as she headed back to the seats. Ginny walked over to the woman - who still hadn't introduced herself, oddly enough - and waited for some sort of instruction.

"Block your mind," the woman said, glaring.

Ginny nodded. She didn't bother telling the woman that her mind was always blocked.

 _Except for that time with Draco and Blaise_ , the voice in her mind reminded her. She told the voice it was just because she hadn't expected to see them, then realised she was arguing with herself instead of concentrating...

After a good fifteen minutes of the woman attempting to invade Ginny's mind, and Ginny responding with stronger barricades, they both retreated. Both Ginny and the teacher were covered in a sheen of sweat, the mental work becoming physical in a matter of minutes.

"Good work. You weakened at times, but a short refresher course should help you keep it at full strength for as long as you need," the woman said with a nod. "NEXT!"

Ginny gave Morrigan a sympathetic look as she passed her.

...

Ginny looked at her watch. It was five past one and Harry was late. It was typical of him, but she was on a tight schedule. She only had until two o'clock to finish here and then get back to the Cloffice for her next class.

Ginny discreetly smelt her robes, worried that she still smelled of sweat. It had taken a few spells to be rid of the smell from earlier in the day, as well as a shower with an overpowering lavender scent. Ginny discovered that she really didn't like lavender.

"Hey Gin. Sorry I'm late," Harry said, appearing beside her with a loud pop. "Did you order for me?" he asked as he sat down, not even letting Ginny reply.

She unclenched her teeth with some difficulty; only George was allowed to call her Gin, she'd told Harry that before...

"No, I'm not a mind reader. I don't know what you'd want to eat," Ginny replied, trying not to sound annoyed.

"I told you that you can just order for me; I'll eat pretty much anything," Harry said with a grin, oblivious to her 'trying hard not to sound annoyed but not succeeding' tone.

Ginny was surprised into silence - _not that Harry noticed_ , that small, and annoyingly correct, voice murmured - _when had Harry ever said for her to order for him before_?

 _First flowers, now saying something that doesn't make sense. Methinks something is happening with Harry, and methinks it has nothing to do with us_... the voice said in a sing-song tone.

 **SHUT UP**.

"I'll have the chicken casserole, and a Butterbeer," Harry said to the waitress, who was looking at Harry's scar with wide eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Potter sir, of course, I mean ... " the waitress took a deep breath, and gave him a smile. "Of course, sir. Your order will be here in a moment. What do you want?" the waitress asked, noticing Ginny for the first time as she turned to go back to the kitchen.

"Chicken schnitzel and a glass of water please," Ginny replied.

She wasn't annoyed that the waitress was making goo-goo eyes at Harry, or that she had practically been ignored - it happened regularly, and Ginny didn't want to be the centre of attention anyway. She was just hoping that they didn't forget her order over the excitement of seeing Mr. Harry James Potter, Auror extraordinaire... Now _that_ was annoying.

"A whole schnitzel, Gin? Are you going to be able to be able to get through that in time to get back to work?" Harry asked, grinning at her.

Ginny gritted her teeth when she saw his gaze drop to her stomach, as if checking to see if she'd magically gained weight just by saying the word 'schnitzel'.

She was hungry from the mental and physical workout she'd done earlier that day, and she'd be able to work off the calories, carbohydrates and fat within a twenty minute workout.

"I'm hungry," Ginny replied with a nonchalant shrug.

Silence fell, and Ginny was almost surprised to notice that it wasn't a comfortable silence. She itched to fidget and move, do something, _anything_ to make the silence stop. Harry kept glancing at her when he thought she wasn't looking, and it was making her nervous.

"Sorry I wasn't at the Burrow Saturday," Harry burst out. "I know you look forward to seeing me every week, but I had Auror work to finish, and it couldn't be put off," he continued, oblivious to her look of relief.

 _Why is he explaining what he was doing? Harry never justifies himself_... Ginny thought in some confusion.

"Here are your orders," the waitress said cheerfully, interrupting Harry's tirade.

"Thank you," Ginny said automatically, but she wasn't sure if it was for the food or interruption.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said, grinning at the waitress.

"Oh, you're welcome, Mr. Potter," she gushed. "If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know. _Anything_ at all," she added in a not-very-subtle way.

Harry just grinned and turned his attention back to Ginny.

"She was nice," he murmured after the waitress left.

Ginny tried not to scoff. "Don't tell me you missed the 'anything at all' part of her speech?" she asked in disbelief, shaking her head.

Harry looked at her with a confused look, and she gritted her teeth again, then returned to her meal silently.

...

"How was your lunch?" Morrigan asked as Ginny came into the gym.

"Don't want to talk about it," Ginny ground out, muttering under her breath.

"Why not? Did he break up with you? Or did you break up with him?" Morrigan asked eagerly.

"Yes, Ginevra. Do tell us all about your _fascinating_ lunch with Mr. Potter," Draco drawled.

Blaise agreed with him, smirking at her.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked, then immediately wanted to take the words back. "I mean, don't you two have a class to be in?" she amended.

 _Well, tried to, at least_.

"Not for another hour. So we're all yours," Blaise said.

"Well, what happened?" Morrigan asked, seemingly oblivious to their double innuendo. "He bought you flowers this morning ... " she prompted.

Blaise and Draco glanced at each other.

"He bought me flowers, with the card saying to meet him for lunch," Ginny started.

Then, doing her best to ignore Draco and Blaise ( _which is why you keep looking at them for their reactions_ , her inner voice said in amusement), Ginny told Morrigan of what had happened at lunch.

"I mean, that's just from my perspective. He might not have noticed," Ginny defended, knowing all too well that her argument was lame.

"He noticed," Morrigan muttered. "No man can't **not** notice that. I mean, if she was practically drooling on him, he would have noticed. Don't you two think that he noticed?" Morrigan asked Draco and Blaise.

"He definitely noticed," Blaise replied, smirking.

 _He wasn't even pretending that he hadn't heard_! Ginny thought. _She wasn't sure if she was glad or annoyed at that_...

"Of course he did. I doubt that Mr. Potter is quite as innocent as everyone believes him to be," Draco drawled.

"What do you mean by that?" Ginny asked, defensive immediately.

"Exactly what I said, Ginevra," Draco drawled. "He's probably off screwing someone else while he's got you in the public eye. He'd keep the image of the saint he's created, and then he'd tell you that he's waiting for marriage or some such bull."

Ginny went red. _He'd said something along those lines a few months after they started dating_...

"You're wrong," she said. "You're just putting him down because he's not here to defend himself," Ginny said.

She left before she could say anything else, or start thinking that they could be right.

...

"Since you are beginners, it will take a few attempts to even get past someone's natural mind barrier. You need to concentrate on the person, no matter what is happening around you. Again, it will take a few attempts, probably a few hours, for you to be able to do this without allowing yourself to be distracted," the teacher added.

 _They looked disappointed, which was always a good sign. It meant that they would work harder to do it_ , she thought, satisfied.

"By the end of the week, you will be able to use Legilimency on someone without even looking at them. A useful skill to have if you are in the middle of a large crowd, and need to focus on one particular person's mind," she added, knowing from experience.

A dummy appeared, looking at them with blank eyes.

"I will allow you to practice on this modified dummy. It has had memories inserted into it, and a very basic mind block has been included. This mind block is at the strength of a four year old's mind. Do not get overly excited if you can complete it on the first try; a child is very open and will most likely not know that you have entered their mind. Who wants to go first?"

Ginny looked at the others, and saw that Morrigan was doing the same thing.

"Don't look at each other! You will not have each other for support during an assignment. Make your own decisions," the woman said sternly.

"I'll go first," Claudia said, surprising everyone.

She had a determination on her face that was directed at the unfortunate dummy.

"Very well. Come up here," the teacher said.

Claudia stood in front of her, looking at the dummy.

"Close your eyes. Picture the dummy in your mind. Think of a prominent feature, and focus on it. Keep picturing it, and then, slip into the dummy's mind."

" _Slip_ into the dummy's mind?!" Claudia exclaimed, looking behind her to glare at the teacher - or to check if she was pulling her leg.

"Yes. You need to ease your way into the person's mind and emotions. As this is only a dummy, there will be no emotions, so you will need to get to become as blank as possible."

She was serious.

"Try it. Once you have done it, then you will understand what needs to be done," she said.

Claudia looked hesitant, but turned her attention back to the dummy.

Ginny watched as Claudia concentrated, her eyes scrunched tight. As Claudia continued to picture the dummy in her mind, her expression softened. Her stance relaxed, and her hands were no longer tense.

"Good, now ease into the emotions and mind. You can feel it, can't you?" the teacher murmured.

Claudia's eyes flung open in surprise, memories that weren't her own bombarded her mind, and she watched intently.

The teacher pinched Claudia's arm, redirecting her attention to the pain.

"Very good, Claudia. Now, you need to work on your expression. It will give you away if you look like a stunned rabbit because you're feeling someone else's mind," the teacher said, sending her back to the bench.

Claudia glared, rubbing her arm as she went back to the seat.

"I'll go next," Ginny said.

The woman nodded, indicating for Ginny to move and face the dummy, as Claudia had done.

"Concentrate, and relax."

Ginny nodded and closed her eyes, picturing the dummy in her mind. Its eyes were looking at her, even though she was not looking at it. She felt nothing, and neither did the dummy. She was completely relaxed, focusing on the dummy, and its blank stare. Ginny was so close, she could feel it. But nothing happened. No instant memories, not one image or thought.

The teacher tapped her shoulder, and Ginny opened her eyes.

"Try again later. You were very close," the woman said.

Morrigan looked scared by Ginny's failure, and looked at Jordan pleadingly.

"I'll go next," Jordan said.

Jordan received the memories from the dummy, his expression not as shocked as Claudia's had been. Morrigan had her turn, and also received the memories, her face surprised. Ginny tried another two times, but was not able to extract a single emotion or thought. Each time, she got close, so that the memories were close to her mind, but they evaded her.

"Have you unblocked your mind?" the teacher asked suddenly, during Morrigan's third try.

Ginny shook her head, feeling embarrassed that she hadn't thought of it herself earlier.

"No matter, you can try again now. Unblock your mind this time," the woman said, pinching Morrigan's arm lightly. "Your expression is becoming more normal. Very good," she said.

"Thanks," Morrigan said, pleased at her own progress.

"Ginevra," the teacher said, indicating for her to replace Morrigan on the floor.

Ginny did so, giving Morrigan a smile of congratulations. She carefully unblocked part of her mind. Ginny had put a lot of work into her mind block, and didn't want to be left vulnerable while she was invading someone else's mind.

"You need to unblock all of it, Ginevra," the teacher said.

"I can't leave anything up?" she asked softly, almost desperately.

"No, I'm afraid that it will not work then. All of it must be taken down, and you will become as vulnerable as the person you're receiving the memories from," she replied, sounding disappointed about it.

Ginny nodded briefly. She hadn't completely taken her mind block off for over five years. It was too painful to be left that vulnerable...

It took almost fifteen minutes for Ginny to completely remove the mind block, inch by excruciating inch. By the time Ginny had completely taken it down, she was shivering and going into shock.

"Put it back up, Ginevra," the teacher said, sounding kind.

Ginny shook her head slightly. "I ... I can do it," she replied, her teeth chattering.

"It wasn't a request. Put it back up," the teacher said, sterner this time.

Ginny did so after a moment of hesitation, and almost collapsed onto the floor in relief. She was protected; she wasn't vulnerable; she was safe.

"You have homework tonight, Ginevra. I want you to keep your mind block off for as long as possible. You need to be able to invade someone else's mind successfully without bringing attention to yourself. I cannot pass you if you are not even able to remove your own block without going into shock," the teacher said, passing her some chocolate.

Claudia tittered quietly, and both Ginny and the teacher glared at her, albeit Ginny weakly.

"Do not laugh, Claudia! You are to practice Occulmency. If you are not able to do it properly by tomorrow, then I will inform the others of your most embarrassing memories. And by others, I mean the entire of Cloffice, not just those in this room," the teacher said, smiling evilly.

Claudia blanched, and her lips went so thin that they almost disappeared into her mouth.

"Morrigan, Jordan, you two are to practice both Occulmency as well. Legilimency is only to be practised in training, or in the field. Is that understood?" the teacher asked, her mere tone a warning.

"Yes, ma'am," they all chorused said.

...

George looked at Ginny, worry showing clearly on his face. She had been shivering for a good ten minutes, yet the fire was blazing, and she was dressed warmly.

"What are they making you do, Gin?" George asked, sitting beside her.

"Nothing. I need to do this," Ginny replied, flinching as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"All right then. Would you like something to eat?" he asked, putting up a cheerful facade in a moment.

"N-no thanks. I'm going to go to sleep," she said, smiling at him weakly.

"It's not even eight-thirty!"

"Tired," she mumbled, heading out of the room.

George muttered under his breath, then waited until his sister had left before silencing the room and throwing Floo powder into the fire.

"Pansy Parkinson!" he called into the green flames.

Her face appeared a few moments later, looking slightly surprised. "George?"

"What are you lot doing to Gin?" George asked angrily, glaring at her.

"Training her. Just like I did. Just like _you_ did," Pansy replied coolly.

"We didn't do anything that would have her shaking like a leaf and in bed before eight thirty!" George bellowed.

Pansy flinched, as if he'd hit her. He could almost hate himself for it, but his concern for Ginny surpassed anything and everything else.

"I'll go check," she started to say, but a blood-curdling scream stopped her halfway.

George was up and out of the room in an instant. "Ginny?!"

He looked in her room and saw Ginny on the bed, her eyes wide as she screamed.

"Ginny!" George yelled, running over to her side. "Wake up, Gin. Come on, wake up," he murmured, shaking her gently.

"G-George?"

"Yeah. I'm here, Gin. What happened?" he asked quietly, keeping his worry out of his tone with effort.

"Nightmare," she replied. "Just a nightmare," Ginny said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. "I'll be fine; don't worry."

Ginny hadn't had a nightmare in years. Not ever since she had started using a mind barrier... _Oh, gods'. It was her second week_... Suddenly George knew what they'd made her do.

"Have a dreamless potion, then I won't worry," George compromised.

"You know what they taste like, George," she said, grimacing. "Just go back to the living room; I'll be fine."

George ignored her, went to the ensuite and took a dreamless potion from the cupboard. No matter what she'd said, Ginny took the potion without a fuss, something that made George worry even more.

George waited with Ginny until she'd fallen asleep again, a frown creasing his face. Sighing, he left and closed the door behind him, running a hand through his short hair.

 _Oh, shit. He'd left Pansy on the firecall_. He hurried back to the living room. Pansy's face was still floating in the flames, and she was looking worried.

"Is Ginevra all right?" she asked as soon as he came in.

"They're making her take her mind block off so that she can do Legilimency," George said, shaking his head. "They obviously don't know her history, or else they wouldn't have been so rash. If Gin keeps it down, the nightmares start again. But I made her have a dreamless potion, so she should be okay," George replied, sighing again.

He flopped onto the couch, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Are you all right?" Pansy asked.

"I'm tired. It gets harder and harder to keep doing this everyday when I don't have ... "

"Fred?"

 _You_.

"I miss him too. I miss both of you," Pansy said, her voice soft.

"I have to get up early tomorrow, so I had better head off. Sorry for yelling at you before," George said.

"George, wait ... "

"Good night, Pansy," he said, shutting off the firecall.

...

Ginny had managed to keep her mind block off for the entire night. Despite having the nightmare, and needing a dreamless potion, she thought it had been quite successful.

Now, as she was heading to class with the others, she was sure that she was ready to attempt Occulmency on the dummy.

"Do you think Draco and Blaise will be at lunch today? They haven't been in the cafeteria for so long. I wonder if they're eating enough," Claudia was saying.

They knew she didn't expect an answer, so they didn't attempt to give her one. Morrigan did roll her eyes at Ginny though, and pretend to gag.

Jordan opened the door for them, bowing and winking to Morrigan as she went through, her face going red.

"Thanks, Jordan," Morrigan said, still red.

"Why, thank you, Jordan," Claudia said silkily, batting her eyelashes at him.

Jordan just nodded his head, well used to Claudia's dramatics by now.

"Thanks," Ginny said, grinning as she rolled her eyes in Claudia's direction.

Jordan grinned, then followed them inside.

Ginny sat on the bench and waited. Feelings coursed through her, and their intensity made her tremble. She desperately wanted to put her mind block back on and retreat back to its comforting embrace.

"Ginevra," the teacher said.

 _There went that idea_...

Ginny stood up and headed to the mat.

"Did you complete your homework?" the teacher asked.

"Yes," Ginny replied.

"Good. How long did you keep your mind block down for?"

"It has been ten and a half hours now," she answered.

"That is impressive, Ginevra," the teacher said, nodding her head slightly. "However, I did not say for you to keep your mind block off all night. I said for you to keep it down for as long as possible. That means, as long as you possibly can without making yourself vulnerable. At the moment, the dummy is more protected than you!" the teacher said, hitting the wooden object for emphasis. "Put your mind block back up and return to your seat."

Stunned, Ginny let her mind block slip back on without a second thought. It felt like it was smothering her, and she rejected it immediately.

"I can't," Ginny said after a moment.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I can't put it back on... It doesn't feel right," Ginny muttered, scratching her head with a frown.

"Then just return to your seat. I will deal with you in a moment," the teacher said, indicating for Morrigan to take Ginny's place.

Morrigan gave Ginny a sympathetic look as they passed each other. Ginny returned the look, then sat down, still feeling confused.

Ginny barely registered that Morrigan accessed the dummy's memories with a straight face on her second try, or that Jordan did it on his first shot. Not even when Claudia started sobbing when her features were too obvious, did Ginny leave her stupor.

"Ginevra! Up front!" the teacher barked.

Ginny nodded and took her place in front of the dummy.

"Since you cannot put your mind block back up at the moment, you are going to be extremely vulnerable to the emotions and memories you will be receiving. We will have some chocolate waiting for you. Now, concentrate on the dummy, and slip into its mind," the teacher instructed.

Ginny nodded briefly, and looked at the dummy. She slowly let all of her own emotions and thoughts fade from her mind, then let the dummy's memories slip into her mind.

Images of the teacher passed her, Pansy talking to the teacher, students with no faces practicing against the dummy, and the dummy sitting in the corner until it was needed.

A dull pain in Ginny's arm moved her from the dummy's memories, and she looked at the teacher, blinking slowly to readjust to the sharp images around her, rather than the hazy ones from the dummy.

"Very good. You looked a little too blank, though. You will need to practice more before you are able to achieve this without drawing attention to yourself," the teacher said.

Morrigan grinned at Ginny in congratulations, as did Jordan. Claudia was too busy fixing her ruined make-up to look away from the mirror in her compact.

...

Ginny headed to the gym straight after the class had ended. She still felt vulnerable and didn't want to face the overwhelming amount of students today. Stepping into the gym, Ginny was both relieved and disappointed to see that no one else was there.

Going over to the mats, she got down to her singlet and shorts, and then started doing a warm ups. Her mind was blissfully blank, and the music matched her mood.

When it changed to the neutral music, Ginny looked around. She just nodded to Draco and Blaise, and finished her warm ups.

In an attempt to keep her mind away from Draco and Blaise, Ginny recited everything she had learnt so far for the advanced healing class she was in next. Then she continued onto health and nutrition, pausing briefly as she tried to recall all of the poisons they were learning about, and how to detect them both magically and physically.

The Muggle and wizarding self defence classes they were continuing this week had become harder with every passing day. They were now performing in pairs, and had to get the other off the mat. Ginny was against Jordan, something that she was almost grateful for, considering how Claudia complained each time Morrigan actually fought her.

Finally, her mind finished going over everything and she looked over at Draco and Blaise. They were on the rowing machine, moving in perfect unison. She watched them for some time, and somehow still managed to complete her own exercises. As her Alarm Quill went off to signify the end of her gym routine, Ginny heard her stomach grumble, and hoped that the cafeteria wasn't full.

Morrigan waved to Ginny as she walked into the cafeteria, and she grinned briefly, heading over to her and Jordan.

"Where's Claudia?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Undetermined. Either sniffing out Draco and Blaise, or fixing her make-up for the past twenty minutes," Morrigan said, grinning.

"We got lunch for you," Jordan said, pushing a tray towards her.

"Thanks. You didn't put belladonna in it, did you?" Ginny asked, grinning.

"No, that was in Claudia's food," Morrigan said, cackling evilly.

Ginny just shook her head at her, then ate her food gratefully.

...

George looked at Ginny, who was sleeping soundly on her bed. The nightmares were still occurring, but they weren't as long. It was an improvement, one that he hoped continued.

He smiled grimly, recalling how Ginny had talked of performing Legilimency on her teacher for the first time today. She'd finally found out that her name was Alessandra.

Tomorrow she would pass her second week at the Centaur Liaison Office, and this weekend would be her first test. He was proud of her, and knew that Fred would have been just as proud of Ginny as he was.

Grief gripped at him, and he took a moment to regain his composure. His thoughts drifted to Pansy; it was happening more often nowadays. He'd still remembered her grate number, even after all of this time, something that he should have been surprised about, but for some reason, wasn't.

What was more surprising, was that Pansy had looked genuinely worried, both for him and Ginny. George still wasn't sure if she'd meant what she'd said about missing him. Hell, he knew he missed her, but Pansy was ... well, she was Pansy, and it had always been difficult to read her.

Shaking his head, George left Ginny's room, taking a long swig of his Firewhisky as he headed to his room.

...

End of the fifth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday dinner arrived far too quickly for Ginny's liking.

She watched absent-mindedly as Molly fussed over Harry. She saw Molly pile Harry's favourite foods onto his plate, as she always did, but Ginny didn't pay attention to it.

Her mind was instead going over the week's events, concentrating especially on the Legilimency and Occulmency lessons she had just completed the morning before.

As her mind followed the instructions, Ginny was surprised to see her imagination bring up the waitress that had served her and Harry earlier that week. Even more surprising was Ginny's imagination making the waitress kiss her.

_The waitress kissed her eagerly, fondling her, and then Cho Chang appeared, grinning at her as she moved in to kiss her too_.

Then she realised that it wasn't  **her**  imagination that was providing these images.

The shock brought her out of the Legilimency, and Ginny stared at Harry, this time actually focusing on him properly. The images became stronger, more sensual and far too detailed to be simply imagination. She found that she wasn't overly surprised. In fact, Ginny realised that she was more disappointed at his open mind, than by what it had revealed to her.

A hand tapped once on her leg, and Ginny fixed a smile onto her face.

"Ginny dear, would you like some more pumpkin? You've hardly eaten anything," Molly tsked.

"I'm all right, Mum. Not feeling well. Headache," she added before Molly could get out the Pepperup Potion.

"Oh, that's not good, dear. Why don't you go lie down upstairs? I'll send someone to check in on you," Molly said with a long, and very obvious, glance towards Harry.

Ginny didn't bother protesting, just nodded briefly and headed upstairs to her old room.

...

George hid his glare very well; he had, after all, been hiding it for quite some time. Harry never noticed a thing, something that was always a disappointment.

"I might go check on Ginny," he murmured to no one in particular.

Molly had returned to fussing over Harry and barely noticed George leave the room.

Knocking on the door three times, then doing two quick raps, George waited a second longer before entering Ginny's room. She was just sitting on the bed, staring at the floor. He closed the door, did a silencing spell, and went to sit in front of her.

"How long have you known?" she asked, looking at him in the eye now.

"Since it started happening," George admitted.

"And how long has it been happening?"

"Six months," he replied quietly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny asked.

"I couldn't exactly tell you how I knew what Potter was thinking, could I? You would have thought that I was lying; you like to have proof of things, Gin," George said, something they both knew was true. "I did offer to put a  _Spy Sock_  in his trunk," he added after a moment's pause.

Ginny laughed then. Hysterical laughter, with tears forcing their way from her eyes, but laughter all the same.

George smiled grimly and hugged her around the shoulders. "You'll be all right, Gin. It's just a surprise," he murmured, kissing her head lightly.

Ginny shook her head at that, wiping away her tears with her sleeves. "That's the thing! I'm not surprised. I'm not upset about it either. Is that normal?" she asked.

"I don't know," George replied truthfully.

He continued to hug his sister until Harry knocked at the door.

"Want me to kill him?" George asked.

"No, don't do that!" Ginny said quickly, afraid that he would.

"Fine, but that means I get to stay while he talks to you," George said, grinning as he got up and answered the door.

...

Harry was surprised to see George open the door. As he walked into Ginny's room, he noticed her red eyes, and wondered what had made her cry.

_Had she found out where he'd been last weekend? No, it wasn't possible. Cho had promised she wouldn't tell a soul_.

The thought of Ginny getting revenge gave him goosebumps. Her Bat Bogey hex was still famous and bordering on deadly. He didn't miss George's looks of hostility either, and that in itself almost made Harry James Potter, the youngest Head Auror in a decade ( _careful now, you're starting to sound like Lockhart_ , some part of his mind warned him), want to go hide under his bed.

"Have you been crying, Gin?" Harry asked, frowning. "Is it that time of the month again?" he asked, grinning at George, expecting him to laugh or smile in return.

George did neither of these things, only glared at him more.

"Of course, Harry. The  _only_  time a woman cries is when she's menstruating," Ginny said sarcastically.

Harry looked at Ginny, surprised. "What's wrong?" he asked, his frown deepening.

"How long have you been cheating on me with Cho, Harry?" Ginny asked, looking straight at him.

"W-what?" Harry stammered, looking between Ginny and George in shock. "I d-don't know what you m-mean, Gin."

"Don't call her that," George growled.

"I want you to leave, Harry. Right now," Ginny said, glaring at him even more intensely than George was.

"All right. I'll be downstairs when you want to talk," he replied, moving towards the door.

"Not the room,  _Potter_. I want you to leave the _house_. Don't you dare to  **ever**  come back while I'm here. Is that understood?" Ginny said as she stood, her hand on her wand.

Harry looked at her properly then, saw her expression, and with a brief nod, Apparated with a loud bang.

"What's happening up here? Oh, did Harry leave already, dear?" Molly asked, looking into Ginny's room.

"He had to go take care of something," George replied, leading his mother away as Ginny sank down onto the bed again.

"Well, you should have left them alone. Poor Ginny has a headache," Ginny heard her mother murmur to George.

Ginny shut the door with her wand, the latch hardly making a sound.

...

Ginny really didn't want to go out on Sunday, but George had insisted it would be good for her. Besides, she might see Cho Chang around and get the opportunity to kill her.

And if that didn't happen, then she could still visit Fred's grave. All of the family was attending this time, something that neither Ginny nor George were overly happy about, but it wasn't like they could stop them.

"They've really done a lovely job with the cemetery," Molly said as they all walked along the path towards Fred's grave.

Ginny stared at her mother, something akin to disgust in her expression.  _Every one of these people had died, and in a war that probably hadn't been their fight, and her mother thought the cemetery looked_   **nice**?

George tapped Ginny's arm lightly as he moved to walk beside her. She sighed softly and took his hand, concentrating on the stones below her feet instead of her mother's words.

She knew it was selfish, but she wished fervently that the others weren't here. She suddenly wanted to go back home, curl up in bed and cry for days straight.  _She wanted to cry over the fact that she wasn't overly upset at Harry cheating on her. She wanted to cry over the fact that she was almost pleased he had been, that she had a reason to break up with him. And by the gods', did she ever want to cry out her frustration at not knowing her feelings towards Draco and Blaise... Yes, that's what was getting to her the most_.

They each talked to Fred in turn, keeping their voices quiet, and their heads bowed. Ginny glanced over at George, and saw that he was pulling faces at Fred's tombstone, almost as if he could see Fred returning the gestures. She stifled her laughter before she could be reprimanded by her mother, and returned to her own silent message to Fred.

"I am sorry to leave you so soon, dear, but the pantry's empty, and I desperately need to go shopping. I swear that Ron's eating me out of house and home," Molly said with a slight grin.

Ron muttered under his breath, and pouted childishly.

"George and I will stay with Fred for a while longer, if you don't mind, Mother," Ginny said.

"I was hoping that you would all come shopping with me," Molly said, sighing. "It seems like I haven't seen you in months, you're all busy working and having your own lives!"

_The infamous Weasley guilt-trip was being put into play_ , the little voice in Ginny's mind muttered.

"I've got to go, sorry Mum," Bill said quickly, Disapparating before she could say anything in return.

"Yeah, it's the dragon's mating season, and I'm needed to make sure there's no fights," Charlie excused himself, and left with a small bang too.

"The Minister wants me to write up a report for him by tomorrow. This is all the time I could spare," Percy said.

"Uh... Harry ... Aurors. Death Eaters. You know," Ron mumbled pathetically, Disapparating too.

In seconds, only Ginny and George were left with their parents.

"It's all right, Mother. We'll help you with the shopping," George said gallantly, bowing deeply.

"We will?" Ginny muttered in surprise. "Of course we will," she amended, smiling at their mother brightly.

"Right, well since they're going to help you, I'll be off. I've got to tinker with the car a bit more," Arthur said eagerly, leaving after kissing his wife briefly.

"I swear that man sees his car more than me," Molly said, sighing heavily. "Oh well, let's go to Diagon Alley." Molly Apparated without another word.

Ginny looked at George, frowning slightly. "Why exactly are we going shopping again, dear brother?" she ground out.

"It'll keep you from moaning around the house. Come on, let's go before she decides to come back and fetch us," George said, grinning.

Ginny sighed and Apparated after her brother, muttering under her breath.

...

As they followed Molly around Diagon Alley, Ginny was surprised to notice that George was distracted. He didn't make jokes about the usual things he did while they were shopping with their mother, and he didn't even notice when Molly made some remark about the amount of rent they paid for their apartment.

His behaviour affected Ginny, and she began to take more notice of their surroundings. She recognised a few people from the Cloffice, and as she focused properly, she realised that there were more than just a few people, and that it probably wasn't a coincidence either.

"What are they all doing here?" she hissed at George, glancing to their mother, who was oblivious to the people.

George didn't reply, instead he stopped in the middle of the street, frozen. He stared past their mother with a surprised look on his face. "I have to go to Flourish and Blotts," he muttered, heading back down the street without another word.

Ginny frowned, looking ahead to the Flourish and Blotts store.  _He was going the wrong way_... She looked to where he had been looking a moment before, and could have sworn that she saw Pansy going into a shop that sold Muggle books.

"Oh, where's your brother going, dear?" Molly asked, finally noticing that something was wrong.

"He said that he needed to go check something at the store," Ginny lied effortlessly.

_At least_ ** _that_** _was the right way_... the little voice in her mind muttered.

Ginny ignored the voice, suddenly frozen herself. Laughter drifted down to them from the ice cream parlour, and it was high-pitched and gratingly familiar. Different laughter accompanied it, this one deeper and more familiar to Molly than the first.

"Harry's here," Molly said, smiling brightly. "He always laughs so nicely," she murmured, turning in the direction of the laughter. "Who is that girl with him, Ginny?" she asked, her bright demeanour dimming as she watched Harry feed the girl ice cream.

"That is Cho Chang, Harry's new girlfriend," Ginny said, her tone clipped.

"New girlfriend? But ... He was ... You were ...  **What**  is going on?" Molly asked, getting angry.

"Harry was cheating on me with Cho Chang. We broke up last night, but I didn't say anything because I didn't want to spoil your dinner," she added before Molly could ask.

"He was  _cheating_  on my baby girl?" Molly fumed, clutching her wand. "Hold the bags, Ginny. I'll be right back."

Harry noticed them then, and he went completely still, his face paling dramatically. Ginny wanted to laugh when she saw that his ice cream was dripping onto his robes, his hand limp.

"Mum, don't!" Ginny said quickly, holding onto her mother's sleeve. "It's fine, really. Well, it's not fine, but I'd rather not cause a scene in the middle of Diagon Alley. You don't want to slander Harry's name in front of the  _Daily Prophet_ 's newsroom, do you?"

Molly looked at her daughter, surprised that she wasn't storming over to Harry with her wand drawn. She usually would have lost her temper by now.

"You're growing up," Molly murmured, giving her a smile.

Ginny frowned, not really understanding what she meant. "Um, thanks. Do you want help unpacking the shopping?" she offered, her hand still on her mother's sleeve.

"That would be nice, dear. Let's try to find your brother, shall we?"

"He's a big boy, Mum. I'm sure he can look after himself," Ginny replied, grinning briefly.

Molly didn't miss the way that Ginny's eyes flickered over to Harry, and was surprised yet again, to see that she wasn't angry. In fact, she looked confused. Then her daughter looked back to her, and smiled again.

"Ready?" Ginny asked.

Molly nodded and Apparated with a loud bang.

Ginny looked over to the Muggle book shop again. George and Pansy were standing there, talking quietly. She noticed that they were sneaking glances at each other when the other wasn't looking, and would have found it comical at any other time, with any other people.

_What exactly were they to each other_? she wondered as she Apparated.

...

George hurried away from his sister and mother, muttering something about Flourish and Blotts. He went into a nearby alley, slumping against the wall and taking in deep breaths to attempt and calm himself down.

_Pansy was here... She would have been at the tests for the other three in Ginny's group. She is the Director of Cloffice, after all_ , he reminded himself. It wasn't easy to think of her as only the Director of the Cloffice, but it was easier than thinking of her in any other way. That would bring up too many memories, he'd always told himself. Yet now, the moment he'd seen her, his thoughts had betrayed him by wondering at how good she looked, even in a simple robe.

His heart had pounded in his chest, his palms had gone sweaty, and his ears had turned red as his thoughts continued to betray him by bringing up those memories ... They were seductive memories; ones filled with happiness and love, and they were the memories he had forced to the back of his mind the moment Fred had died. Those types of memories didn't have a place in his life, not without Fred being there.

He hadn't seen Pansy outside of Cloffice for months, possibly years, and now that he had, he'd gone running off in the opposite direction...

"Coward," he muttered to himself.

In his mind, he could hear Fred agreeing with him.  _You're hiding back here like a bloody coward, Georgie-boy. Go out there and stop this idiotic nonsense_ , Fred said.

_Fred was right, of course. He always was_... George straightened himself, dusted off his robe and took another deep breath before Apparating to the store he'd seen Pansy in.

He saw her at the front of the store, watching whatever test they'd thought up for his sister. A smile graced his features as he saw the look of concentration on Pansy's face. Fred had always said that she was too serious, and had followed that statement with everything he could think of to make her smile and laugh. They both loved to hear her laugh...

"Pansy," he murmured, moving closer to her.

She didn't jump when he rested a hand on her shoulder;  _she was better trained than that_ , he thought to himself. But he felt the slight tension of her body beneath his palm, and wondered what she was thinking.

"George," Pansy said coolly, not looking away from the scene in front of her.

"So... How are you?" he asked.

He'd never been good at small talk, especially when the person wouldn't look at him...

"Fine. Busy working. You?" Pansy asked.

George could hear the curiosity in her voice, and knew that she was wondering why he was talking to her. They both knew that he hated small talk.

"Fine. Busy working," he taunted, a brief smile on his lips.

Pansy turned to glare at him, but her face softened the moment she saw him smiling.

"Are you really fine, Pans?" George asked softly when she'd turned back.

Again, there was that tension in her shoulders. It was only slight, but he knew exactly what to look for. He'd been looking for years, after all.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in my feelings, George?" Pansy asked, her tone harsh.

He moved beside her. "What gave you the idea I wasn't?"

"You not speaking to me for the past three years, unless it was about Cloffice," she added sarcastically. "You ignoring any and every attempt I gave to talk to you. Oh, and most recently, you de-grating me on the firecall! I've got a whole list more, if you want it," Pansy sneered.

"You can give it to me over dinner then," George said, grinning when a look of shock and surprise appeared on her face. "I'll make the reservations and pick you up at seven," he said.

"What if I've already got plans tonight?" Pansy asked, and he could see the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips.

"You don't," George said. "You got Potter here with Cho?" he asked, suddenly hearing his mother's loud voice and noticing how Ginny was actually being tested.

"Yes. Ginevra needs to learn to control her temper. I'm not sure if I should deduct marks because your mother's here or not," Pansy murmured.

"If anything, Ginevra usually gets more hot-headed when Molly's around," George said, grinning.

"Might just test her in the lunchroom again," Pansy said.

He snuck a glance at Pansy, and looked her over. She really did look good, and he wondered if she'd dressed up in hope of seeing him.

_No, that was silly. Pansy always looked good when she went out, no matter if she was just going to Diagon Alley for some milk and bread_... George thought, looking away again.

He watched as Ginny calmed their mother down, and she seemed to look straight at him for a second. Then she was looking at Molly again, and after a few more seconds of talking, Molly Apparated home. George didn't see Ginny Apparate after her, as he was looking at Pansy again.

...

Ginny was relaxing on the lounge with a bowl of fruit when George came into the room, wearing his nicer robes. She'd contemplated getting ice cream, but that reminded her of Harry, annoyingly.

"You're going out?" she asked, chewing on a peach slice.

"I've got a date, actually," he replied, going red when he saw Ginny's penetrating look.

"With Pansy Parkinson?" she asked.

"Yes," George answered after a moment of silence, unsure of her reaction.

"Well, have fun," Ginny said, smiling at him brightly.

"That's it? No, ' _she's a Slytherin and our employer_ ' nonsense?" George asked, surprised.

"Would you prefer me to go on like that? I can imitate Ron well enough, I suppose," Ginny said, sighing as she stood up and faced him. " _How can you do this? She's a Slytherin, for Merlin's sakes! And she's your boss, how could you do that? Don't you know that she's probably only using you_? Blah, blah, blah. Go off and have fun, damn it!"

George started laughing incredulously. She didn't have Ron's tone, obviously, but she had the words spot on. He laughed for a good two minutes before he could calm himself down.

"That was too funny. Maybe you should get a job at  _Wheezes_ ," George said, chuckling again.

"Thanks, George. Really," Ginny muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him.

"You're very welcome," he said brightly. "Have a good night with the Wireless. Don't wait up for me," George said, and Apparated.

Ginny was surprised when George appeared in the room, not even five seconds later. "That had to be the shortest date in history," she muttered.

"Forgot to tell you, I've got the wards set so that I'll be notified if anyone comes in or out of the apartment. So if you leave, can you take them down?" George asked, Apparating before she had a chance to reply.

"You know I don't know the password, George!" she called after him. "Great, stuck under house arrest," Ginny muttered.

Truthfully, Ginny didn't mind having the apartment to herself. She needed time to think, and she always thought better when she was alone. She ran a hot bath, and was enjoying herself right up until the time Harry Potter Apparated into the apartment.

...

"Ginny?" she heard Harry's voice call her.

She frowned, thinking that she was just hearing things. Then she heard him call her name again. She was out of the bath in a shot, not wanting him to come in while she was trying to relax. She dried herself with a spell and changed in a matter of seconds.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded the moment she saw him.

"I just want to talk about what happened today," Harry replied.

"I think that's out of the question, Potter," George's cold tone came from behind him.

Ginny was surprised at how relieved she felt to see him there. She just didn't feel like dealing with this tonight. She noticed Pansy beside him before Potter could even take his eyes from George's face.

"Sorry, Pansy. We might have to reschedule," George murmured, turning to his date.

"Not a problem. It was good to see you again, George," she replied, touching his arm lightly.

"What was Parkinson doing here?" Potter asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

"That is none of your business. And you, Potter, are trespassing," George said, glaring at him.

He'd hardly begun his date with Pansy, but it had seemed to be going well, and then this had had to to happen. George was  **extremely**  pissed off.

...

End of the sixth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

George looked at Ginny, frowning slightly. She looked like she hadn't slept at all last night, and he could see that she was retreating into herself. He didn't know if it was because of Potter being with Cho, or if it was due to Potter appearing, uninvited at that, to the apartment.

"Are you sure that you want to go in today? I could call in for you, I'm sure Pansy wouldn't mind," he began to offer.

"No!" Ginny said quickly, making George look at her with surprise.

_She had to go in, and keep some sort of routine. If she stayed here, then Potter might return, and she wouldn't be responsible for her actions. Especially if they resulted in her going to Azkaban_...

"No," Ginny repeated, softer this time. "I'm all right. I'll be fine, okay?" she said, forcing a smile on her face.

George just nodded, hugged Ginny briefly and threw the Floo powder into the fireplace for her.

"Firecall me at lunch. You don't, and I'll come there and find you," George said seriously.

"I'll firecall," Ginny promised, nodding as she stepped into the fireplace. " _The Quibbler_ , Ginevra Weasley's office," she said clearly, disappearing in the green flames.

...

Morrigan wiped her forehead on her sleeve, her breathing shallow.

"Geez, Ginny. Who're you thinking about? You're killing me over here!" Morrigan said, only half-joking.

Ginny faltered, the previous anger and determination on her face fading in an instant. "Sorry, Morrigan," Ginny said, shaking her head.

"Why are you apologising?" their instructor said, on them in an instant. "Keep going like that, use your anger. Keep thinking about that person, whoever the poor soul is, and use it to fight. All of you against Ginevra. Now!" the instructor said.

In a moment, Ginny was thinking about Harry and Cho again, and was fighting against Jordan, Morrigan and to some extent, Claudia. They found that Claudia favoured her fingernails during a fight, and while Ginny was busy dodging her talons, Jordan kicked her in the stomach. She went down with a thud, then got up again with a growl.

In that instant Ginny stopped thinking about Harry, about Cho, about anything at all. She kicked Claudia to the side, ignoring her high-pitched scream. She punched Jordan in the jaw, and kicked Morrigan's feet from under her. She was puffing heavily as she came back to reality, and saw them strewn around her.

"Well done. Tomorrow's class we're moving onto Muggle weaponry and how it can be used in fights. I do not suggest that you think of that person outside of class again, Ginevra," the instructor said with a grim smile, handing chocolate to the other three.

...

"No, not that fork. The salad fork is the first one," an instructor said, smacking Ginny's wrist with the appropriate fork.

Ginny bit her tongue, wished that she didn't have to do this class, and then tried to memorise the proper table etiquette again.

The most she had ever gotten at home was to keep her elbows off the table, and to not talk with her mouth full. This class, however, was something else all together. It seemed that Morrigan was having just as much trouble as she was. Even Jordan seemed to be having difficulty. Claudia was the only one who could pick up the right fork, spoon and knife on instruction.

"Work from the outside in," the instructor repeated. "If you are served soup, which spoon do you use, Ginevra?"

"The one next to the knife?" she replied, uncertain.

"Correct. Don't sound so uncertain, you need to be confident at Ministry meals," the instructor reprimanded lightly. "Now, where is the dessert cutlery?" she asked.

"Above the plate," Ginny replied, more confident this time.

"Good. Morrigan, would you have red or white wine with fish?" the instructor asked.

"Uhh ... White," Morrigan replied. "White wine with white meat, red wine with red meat," she recited.

"Good. Try not to recite things out loud if you're asked about it in public," the instructor said. "Homework for tonight is to set your table at home with all of the proper cutlery. Try to remember what goes where, and then attempt to eat a meal with that setting. You will find it easier to learn this when you have a more practical use for it. I will be testing you on it tomorrow," she finished.

Ginny left, trying to think of the fish fork compared to the salad fork. She didn't know why there wasn't just one fork, like at any normal table setting...

...

"I'll help you with the table settings when you get home. Don't worry, if I can pick it up, then so can you," George said, winking at her.

Ginny just shook her head at him.

"So, how are you?" George asked, his tone a little too intense to be a casual question.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, frowning.

" _The Daily Prophet_  is what happened," George said, rolling his eyes.

"I haven't seen it. Do you have a copy?" Ginny asked.

"I sort of threw it into the fireplace," he replied sheepishly.

"Thanks. Well, I'm off to go find one then," Ginny replied, waving goodbye and shutting the grate.

Ginny wasn't sure if she was just getting paranoid by what George had said, but it seemed that people in Cloffice were looking at her a fraction too long, as if they knew something that she didn't.

She hurried to the cafeteria, where the newspapers were kept, and was surprised beyond belief when the entire cafeteria went silent as she entered. No doubts about it now, Ginny looked around as every student and teacher stared at her, sympathetic and knowing expressions on their faces. She saw a copy of  _The Daily Prophet_  on a nearby table and walked over, trying to keep her pace even.

...

**HARRY POTTER A PLAYBOY? DUMPS GIRLFRIEND FOR HARPY'S SEEKER**!

_Harry Potter dumped long time girlfriend, Virginia Weasley, this weekend. The very next day, he was seen in Diagon Alley with Cho Chang, the Harpy's new Seeker, his arm around her and feeding her ice cream._

_Sources claim that Harry has had a crush on Cho for some time now, and only dated Virginia as Cho got over the loss of her previous boyfriend Cedric Diggory (refer to my article: Triwizard Disaster, 1994). These same sources revealed that Virginia recently lost her high-profile job at the Ministry. Maybe it was too much for them to get over?_

_Meanwhile, as Virginia remains unemployed, Harry is out flaunting his new girlfriend around without a care in the world._

_Is it love, or is our golden hero nothing more than a playboy_?

...

Ginny laughed, she couldn't help herself. "That's it?!" she muttered, laughing again. "They got my name wrong, and my mother says worse things to me on a daily basis. Absolutely pathetic," Ginny said quietly, shaking her head and leaving the cafeteria again.

_All of that fuss over nothing_.

Ginny went to the front of Cloffice, firecalling George again. He answered immediately, looking worried.

"Hi George," she murmured.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine, why wouldn't I be?" Ginny asked, grinning.

"Did you find a copy of the  _Prophet_?" George asked, frowning.

"You mean that stupid article where they spelled my name wrong? Yes, I saw it. I'm not surprised, and I'm sure as hell not angry about it," Ginny said, sighing. "I suppose I should be, but I can't bring myself to care that much about it. I haven't loved Harry for a long time now, and I'm glad that it's happened. I just wish it wasn't quite so publicly. Molly's going to have a fit," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Harry'll deserve it," George said, grinning now.

"You shouldn't wish Molly on anyone, George," Ginny admonished, laughing now.

"Indeed, we would all suffer," Blaise's voice murmured from behind her.

"I still remember her Howler to the Weasel King from our second year at Hogwarts," Draco added, smirking.

Ginny turned to face them. "Anything you'd like to say to my face?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"We read that article in the  _Prophet_ ," Blaise said.

"We can get Skeeter fired if you want," Draco added, sounding pleased at the concept.

Ginny shook her head in disbelief, and turned back to George, who was watching them all with a curious expression. "I'm fine, so I'll see you this afternoon, okay?" she asked.

George just nodded goodbye and turned the grate off.

"What do you want?" Ginny asked Blaise and Draco with a sigh.

"We just wanted to see how our fellow colleague was faring," Blaise said, sounding gentle.

"And we're attempting to escape that bimbo from your group," Draco added truthfully, smirking.

"Claudia?" Ginny asked, somewhat surprised.

She would have thought that Claudia was right up their alley. They were always seen with lithe, air-headed girls on their arms when in tabloid pictures of the balls and events they attended. It was something Ginny knew she would never be, and she loathed how she was disappointed at that. Now, at their obvious dislike of Claudia, Ginny felt something akin to hope for non-bimbos, herself in particular.

"Yes, that one. She won't stop hounding us. We're thinking of filing grievance reports against her," Blaise said, grinning.

"I don't think that will stop her. Claudia is a very determined person," Ginny said with a grin, remembering her face against the dummy.

"If that's the case, we'll need to do something to stop her," Draco muttered.

"She's coming again," Blaise murmured, and they all heard the sharp click of heels against the floor, something that Claudia seemed to do with an obsessive air.

Draco and Blaise both grabbed Ginny's arm and Disapparated moments before Claudia came around the corner.

"What did you do that for?" Ginny asked, wrenching her arms away from them.

"What do you think she would have done if she'd seen you there, after just having followed us?" Draco drawled.

"She would have annoyed you endlessly for information, our whereabouts, when you'd last seen us ... And you don't want that sort of thing going on while you're trying to finish your work at Cloffice, do you?" Blaise asked, smirking.

"Well, you could have let me Apparate on my own," Ginny muttered.

"How about you just thank us instead?" Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you," Ginny said quietly, surprising them.

They just nodded in response, and started to strip. Ginny's eyes widened briefly, until she actually looked at their surroundings and saw that they were in the gym. She let out a sigh of relief, then started to strip down to her own gym clothes too. They all worked out in silence for the rest of the lunch hour.

...

"You all know what this is, I hope?" the flying instructor asked, holding up a broom.

"A broomstick, ma'am," they chorused, looking confused.

"Stella, not ma'am. Don't make me feel older than I already am!" she said, grinning.

Even as she grinned in response, Ginny felt that this would be on of the very few times she would smile in the class. Stella looked friendly enough, but the scars she was concealing under various Glamours betrayed her friendly demeanour.

"Right, get on your brooms and in the air!" Stella yelled.

_Looks like we were right_ , the little voice said with a sigh.

Ginny got on the broom and quickly rose into the air.

Stella waited until they were all in the air before following them up.

"Today's lesson is just to test your current knowledge of flying. Tomorrow's lesson will be focusing on improving your skills, and adding new ones. Later in the week, you will learn how to fly and attack in combat," Stella said. "Now, show me what you've got! You, go first!" she said, pointing at Morrigan.

"It's Morrigan, Stella," she replied with a grin, and then started flying.

Ginny watched as she flew, and was impressed by her skill. Morrigan did sharp turns with ease, flew doughnuts around each and every one of them, and did flips too.

"You, go!" Stella said, pointing at Jordan.

"Jordan," he said, and then flew.

Morrigan was still flying, so Jordan had to do sharp turns in order to avoid her fast flying and tricks, and then had to add in his own.

"You, go," Stella said, and Ginny realised that she was pointing at her.

"Ginevra," she replied, then with a final grin, started flying as well.

Ginny flew into the cycle, nimbly avoiding Jordan, and dodging Morrigan. She started a downwards spiral, moving up sharply and continuing the spiral.

Claudia entered the flow next, and everything went fine until she turned suddenly and hit Jordan's broom.

Ginny stopped sharply as she heard a shriek.

"Keep it down! If you're flying in enemy territory, you don't want a simple crash to alert them to your position by screaming your head off!" Stella yelled, glaring.

Claudia shut up immediately.

"Now, all of you in a straight line, facing me!" Stella ordered.

They did so quickly, Ginny wondering what was going to happen now.

"On my whistle, all of you are to fly in a straight line, one after another. The leader is to set the pace, and all of you will follow. When I blow the whistle, the back person flies to the front and becomes leader. Understood?" Stella asked.

"Understood!" they chorused.

"Stop when I blow the whistle twice."

Stella blew her whistle loudly, and they started flying. Jordan was at the start, and flew slowly, gradually picking up pace as they continued. The whistle blew, and Morrigan flew to the front quickly, just missing the front of Jordan's broom as she moved in front of him. She flew faster than Jordan had, and in a smaller circle too. Just when Ginny started to feel dizzy, the whistle blew, and Claudia moved to the front. They didn't slow down, but the loops became larger, so no one felt as dizzy. The whistle blew once more, and Ginny moved to the front. She kept the same pace, but started moving up and down as well, just to add some variety. Then she went faster, just to get back at Morrigan. The whistle blew again, and Morrigan went to the front again.

The routine continued, and kept going. Stella didn't blow the whistle twice so that they could stop, and despite her years as Chaser, as well as the hours she spent at the Burrow on one of her brothers' brooms, the intensive cycle made her legs get tired and very sore. It seemed that she needed to use the gym more...

Finally, after what seemed hours, the whistle was blown twice, and they all followed Jordan down to land.

"Did I say that you could land?" Stella yelled.

"No," they said, flying back up again.

"Have some water, then start again," she instructed, a bottle hovering before each of them.

Ginny drank gratefully, but knew from experience not to drink too much. If Stella wasn't going to let them land now, she doubted that she would let them for a toilet break.

Not even two minutes later, they were flying in the air again. Ginny was glad that this was her last lesson for the day. She was going to go home and collapse somewhere soft.

...

There were four firecall messages from Molly when Ginny arrived home. George had known better than to open the grate when he saw that it was Molly calling, and spent most of his day in the shop, avoiding the fireplace.

Despite her sore legs, and how tired she was, George wouldn't let Ginny rest. Instead, he helped Ginny set the table properly, as he'd promised earlier in the day. He showed her two times, and then made her set it herself another three times before he was satisfied. Only after that was done, did George bring out their dinner.

"And just so you can use the cutlery, I made a three course meal!" he said proudly.

"You cooked?" Ginny asked warily.

"Fine, I ordered a three course meal," George amended. "And just for that, you can serve!" he said cheerfully.

Ginny glared at him, and then started serving their dinner.

"You had Stella today, didn't you?" George asked, sounding sympathetic.

Ginny just nodded, and tried not to mutter under her breath about the psychotic flying instructor.

"I have a cream to help with the aching and bruises; I'll give it to you after dinner," George said.

"Thanks, George. That's really nice of ... It's not a product from the shop, is it?" Ginny asked suddenly, wary that George was being nice.

George just laughed and shook his head. "No. Believe me, I know how much it hurts. I won't do anything like that during your training. Afterwards, well... you'll have to be on edge then!" he said, winking.

"Great, something to look forward to," Ginny muttered.

...

The next day, Ginny sat at the table with Jordan and Morrigan as Claudia served the meal for them. Claudia looked nervous, and her eyes continued to flick to the instructor. She was testing them today, and it was distracting to watch the quill fly across the notepad as she watched all of them intently.

They placed their napkins across their laps, waiting.

"Morrigan, soup and bread," the instructor said.

Morrigan nodded, but waited until Claudia was seated before taking her soup spoon. She had a mouthful of soup, moving the spoon through the bowl the correct way. Then she broke the bread into smaller pieces, buttering the one she intended to eat.

"Ginevra, main meal and drink," the instructor said, the quill still flying.

Ginny picked the fork up in her left hand, the knife in her right, and cut the meat. She ate the piece properly, with the fork prongs facing down. Setting her cutlery down, Ginny took her white wine glass and sipped slightly.  _Never drink too much, especially when you have to Apparate home_.

"Jordan, dessert and napkin."

Jordan picked up his dessert spoon, cutting off a general sized piece of the apple pie. After eating, he picked up the napkin, and wiped his lips before folding it neatly on the plate.

"Claudia, leave," the instructor said.

Claudia was confused, but she stood and left the table. As she did so, Jordan stood as well.

"Claudia, sit down."

She did so, Jordan sitting as well.

"Dinner is finished," the instructor said, still watching.

Ginny set her knife and fork on the plate, and placed her napkin on top neatly, as Jordan had.

"Thank you for dinner, Claudia," she said, smiling.

Morrigan and Jordan echoed her sentiments, not even a second behind.

"Excellent work, everyone. Now, eat your food before your lunch break finishes," the instructor said, smiling.

They did so gratefully, still taking care to follow the proper etiquette, just in case they were still being tested.

...

The Advanced wizard defence instructor was nicknamed Scarface due to the large scar running down the side of his face, and into his neck. It was said that the scar went all the way down to his leg, but due to his clothing, no one really knew the truth.  _He didn't look like the sort of man to tell the truth about it eithe_ r, Ginny thought to herself as she glanced at it.

"Eyes front!" he barked. "You've been working on both basic and medium levels of Muggle and wizard self defence, have you not?" he asked, pacing in front of them.

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Well, compared to what you're going to be put through with me, those will seem like the easiest things in the world," he said with a sneer. "You two, partner up!" he said, pointing at Ginny and Claudia.

Ginny repressed her groan of annoyance, and hoped that Claudia would actually attempt to fight properly in this class. Without her nails would be even better; some of the crescent-shaped marks Claudia had put on her last week were only just beginning to heal... The look on Claudia's face told Ginny that she was still going to resort to using her nails.

The instructor yelled out a hoarse 'Start' and in half a second, Claudia was charging towards Ginny, fury twisting her face.

"You're going to get wrinkles that way," Ginny said, hoping that would make her stop.

It didn't work, and Claudia's nails were digging into Ginny's arm a moment later. Ginny growled under her breath, and fought back, punching at Claudia with her free arm.

"WHY AREN'T YOU USING YOUR WANDS?! YOU'RE WIZARDS, AREN'T YOU?" the instructor yelled fiercely.

Ginny smirked when Claudia blanched slightly. They'd all seen her Bat Bogey Hex last week, and Jordan had muttered about bat-filled nightmares the next day. With her free hand, Ginny grabbed her wand and hexed Claudia. Due to Claudia's close proximity with Ginny the hex hit her with full force, and both women were blown to each end of the room. Claudia tried to stand up, but the Jellylegs hex prevented that, and in that time, Ginny made her way to face her, her wand pointed straight down at Claudia's crumpled form.

"Surrender," Claudia muttered after a minute.

Ginny grinned and turned away, only to be hit by a spell from behind.

"That's not fair!" Morrigan said as Ginny started tap dancing.

"Life isn't fair, and war especially so. There are no rules in war, and do not think that the enemy will keep their word just because it is fair; get used to it now," the instructor said, giving Claudia a nod.

Claudia grinned smugly and nodded in return. While her attention was elsewhere, she was hit by another hex.

Ginny stopped tap dancing with relief, and looked to Jordan, who'd been the one to hex Claudia.

"There are no rules in war," he echoed, grinning.

Scarface just chuckled and then, not even a second later, was stony-faced once more and ordering them to continue.

...

Ginny nodded her head briefly to the two Cloffice students leaving the gym, heading to the cafeteria for their lunch. She sighed in relief, turned up her choice of music and stripped down to her gym clothes before starting her workout. During the weeks that she had been there, Ginny found that she liked the boxing bag a lot, and trained against the wooden dummy standing alone in an adjacent room. Spells were allowed to be used in that room without consequence, which Ginny appreciated since the dummy had magic inside of it that allowed it to fight back, and swing on a rope that was connected to its head. It wasn't completely realistic, but she was still training against real people in her classes, so this was just good for a little extra practice.

She noticed the music change, but continued to kick the bag in front of her.

"Why are you always in here, Ginevra?" a voice murmured behind her- Blaise.

She didn't jump in surprise; Ginny had heard their footsteps coming towards her.

"Training, why else?" she muttered, moving to hit and punch the bag in quick consecutive hits.

"I pity the person's face you have on that bag," Draco murmured, then went to hold the bag properly as she kept kicking.

"No one's face," Ginny replied, kicking the bag a little harder and grinning when she heard the slight grunt that Draco released.

"Then I just pity the bag," Draco said, smirking at her.

Ginny wiped the sweat from her face, then looked at them. "Why are you always in here, then?" she asked.

She hated that she was hopeful it was for her. But she couldn't help the hope that made her breath quicken, her eyes glance at them a little longer than she should have, and her hands get clammy.

"Training, why else?" Draco replied, smirking again.

He looked her body over briefly, as if he could see her hope literally radiating from her.

Ginny cursed her body for acting like a hormone-crazed teenager, and just raised her eyebrow at Draco's obvious look. She moved to kick the bag again, when she felt Blaise's hands grab her waist.

"You're leaning too far back. You'll fall if you don't maintain a proper balance," Blaise murmured in her ear.

Ginny bit her tongue, focused on the pain, and fought the urge to blush.

They stayed with her, teaching her patiently and seductively, how to attack the punching bag properly, then the swinging dummy. She couldn't help but look at them as they looked to her, lean into their lingering touches, and she almost snapped her Alarm Quill when it rang some time later.

Ginny thanked them for their help, and went to shower quickly. By the time she left the bathroom, both Draco and Blaise were waiting for her at the door, their hair wet from their own showers. Ginny made a promise to herself not to analyse anything-  _everything_ \- they did, and just smiled briefly before going with them to the cafeteria.

...

The look on Claudia's face almost made Ginny laugh the moment they entered the cafeteria. Morrigan laughed behind her hand, and winked at Ginny. Draco and Blaise ignored both of their reactions, and just sat down next to Jordan, who hadn't looked surprised until that moment.

Claudia stared at Draco and Blaise for most of lunch, switching to Ginny every so often. There was a calculating look on her face that Ginny didn't trust.

She didn't have to wait long for Claudia to attempt something. When Claudia approached Ginny after lunch, at first it seemed like she was just asking relentless questions about Draco and Blaise, but then Ginny noticed the look of concentration on Claudia's face, and she barricaded her mind just as an image of Draco and Blaise working out in the gym appeared.

Feeling the barricade, Claudia's eyes narrowed, and she went ahead with a humph.

"What's up her arse?" Morrigan asked Ginny, smirking.

"She tried to use Legilmency on me to get information about Draco and Blaise, and was annoyed when I blocked her mind," Ginny replied, shrugging.

"Weren't we told  _not_  to do that outside of training?" Jordan asked.

"Well, we are still in the training facility," Ginny pointed out, grinning.

"You know that's not what I meant," Jordan muttered.

Ginny just grinned at him again, then headed into their next class without another word.

...

End of the seventh chapter

Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

George waited somewhat impatiently for Ginny to get home. He'd been cooking - _actually cooking this time!_ \- a three-course meal for them for the past few hours. It was to test her on the health and nutrition class she'd done that week. He grinned when he heard a pop, and headed into the lounge room.

 

"What took you so long, Gin? I'm cooking up a ... oh. Sorry Pansy, I thought you were Ginny," George said, going bright red when he realised he was wearing a frilly apron.

 

Pansy's eyebrow raised and she bit her lip hard to keep from laughing. "What are you wearing?" she asked, but didn't give him time to answer; the baby blue frills were too much for her, and she laughed heartily.

 

"I was trying to make Gin laugh," George replied, quickly taking the apron off. "She's been a bit distant since the Potter Incident."

 

Pansy sobered up quickly, remembering why she'd come here in the first place. "Ginevra's being treated in the Cloffice hospital. It appears that she's eaten some wizarding magic mushrooms during her health and nutrition class today," she said.

 

"Gin would never eat those. She's seen enough to know not to eat them," George said, frowning.

 

There had been a lot of the wizarding variety of mushrooms in the forest behind the Burrow, and Molly had put enough spells on them so they wouldn't eat any as children, and then inspired enough fear in them when they were older so they knew not to eat them. Not one Weasley would eat mushrooms without knowing their origin; even he and Fred had always treated them with caution.

 

"What do you mean 'it appears'? Did someone do it on purpose?" George asked Pansy, his fists tightening and his frown getting deeper.

 

"It is possible. Two of her classmates seem to think so, at least. Come with me, I'll take you to her," Pansy said, taking George's arm.

 

He quickly threw a few spells over his shoulder to the kitchen to ensure that nothing would boil over or blow up. He quite liked his kitchen the way it was. George nodded to Pansy, and they Apparated without a sound.

 

...

 

Ginny stared at her hand. It was changing colours, changing shape, and it was scaring the hell out of her. Her thoughts kept jumping from one thought to the next, so there wasn't enough time for her to remain scared for long if she didn't focus on it. 

 

Watching her hand, Ginny suddenly felt the urge to giggle loudly. Then as the feeling subsided, her entire body became relaxed and she snuggled down into the bed they'd put her on. She didn't know why they'd put her onto a bed.

 

 _Maybe they were going to inject her with something and use her as their puppet? Maybe they were poisoning her food. What did they do behind closed doors that no one else knew about_?!

 

Panicking, Ginny tried to get off the bed. Hands held her down and she screamed at them to let her go, that she knew they were going to hurt her, and that they might as well kill her because she'd never tell them what they wanted, never do what they wanted, never be their puppet.

 

Something was pushed into her arm, and she screamed even louder as pain followed it around and around. They'd pricked her with something sharp and ... sharp. They _were_ poisoning her! Thrashing on the bed still, she slowly began to calm down as whatever they'd injected her with flowed through her system. Slowly, and very gradually, the people holding her loosened their grip. The moment they'd all let go and stepped back, Ginny moved off the bed and headed towards the door. One of the people moved towards her suddenly, shouting loudly and scaring her, brandishing something sharp.

 

 _These people were going to experiment on her, and she couldn't allow that! What if they found out about her association with Voldemort in her first year, and how she'd helped him Petrify all those people_?

 

Feeling sick at the thought of killing the roosters and Petrifying everyone, Ginny pushed the thoughts away and wildly looked around for an escape. _People were running after her. They were going to hurt her. They felt so cold, so cold_... Shouts echoed from behind her, in front of her, inside of her...

 

She thought a spell quickly, the words not actually words, but intense feelings. _She had to protect herself, had to survive, had to move, get away.._. A bubble appeared around her body, slightly blue in colour. She didn't have the time or the thought capacity to think about the spell properly, and ran away from the person who was still holding that thin sharp pricking thing.

 

 _It hurt her, and she had to get away_. _There were so many loud noises and she just wanted to fall to the ground and cry. But she couldn't, they'd hurt her then! She had to keep moving, had to keep shouting spells, had to keep the bubble of protection around her so their spells wouldn't hurt her. Keep moving_...

 

_Where was she now? Were they herding her somewhere, going to trap her and do more tests? She had to escape, but she couldn't remember how to do that thing where she disappeared from one place and appeared in another. She should remember, she'd worked on it long enough. Maybe if she just stopped and thought about it longer? ... But she couldn't, they were still following, still yelling, still throwing spells at her. If she stopped to think, then she'd lose her concentration and lose her safe, safe bubble. She needed the bubble to survive._

 

 _Keep running_!

 

...

 

"I have no idea what the hell that thing around her is, just try to get it off so we can sedate her! Those mushrooms could be killing her from the inside out, and we can't do anything about it while she's still in that blasted bubble!" Pansy yelled into the small button at the top of her robe.

 

The button was spelled to connect to other officials at Cloffice, all of whom were now chasing after Ginevra. The bubble that was around Ginevra was not only making everyone's spells ineffective, but it was also making her Unplottable so no one could simply Apparate to where she was and stun her. The spell was something that no one had ever seen before, and Pansy wanted the spell in her possession almost as much as she wanted Ginevra alive and unharmed.

 

George couldn't help but feel proud of the chaos his little sister was causing, even if she wasn't meaning to... He really hoped that the mushrooms weren't killing her. It would be too much to handle if she died; she was the last family link he had that was keeping him alive, and he wasn't even sure if the spark of hope that he had with Pansy now would be able to survive his favourite sister's death.

 

"Keep your contents in your stomach, Weasley. She'll be fine, we both know it. I just needed to scare them into action," Pansy said, glancing at him as they followed the destruction his sister was causing.

 

Some bricks were crumbling to the side, and George jumped over them nimbly, doing nothing but nod to Pansy's comment. He knew that she'd see his nod and knew that he'd accepted her words. _But that didn't mean he couldn't get to Ginevra as fast as possible_ , he thought to himself, running faster still.

 

...

 

 _Why did she recognise this room? The thing on wheels... It looked so bright and it hurt her eyes, despite it only being white in colour. Everything was so much brighter, and if she wasn't quite so paranoid, Ginny was sure that this could have been a wonderful experience. However, she was, and it definitely wasn't_.

 

 _Now, where was she? And how could she escape? A window? Back door? Side room to hide in? Something, anything_...

 

She heard her name, a low lilting tone that calmed her slightly. Then she remembered she was being chased and hurried to keep her concentration up. _Why did she recognise that voice_?

 

Another voice joined it, just as calming as the first. _No, that wasn't good. She needed to get out. Had to get out. Experiments, needles, pain... Concentrate_!

 

"Do you recognise the spell she's using for that bubble?" Blaise murmured to Draco softly.

 

Draco shook his head minutely. "She looks terrified," he muttered.

 

"That's because she is," Pansy said from behind them, George beside her. "She had magic mushrooms."

 

At Pansy's voice, Ginevra flinched and the bubble changed to a darker blue colour. They could all see her mouthing words, but Pansy couldn't work them out.

 

"She's telling herself to concentrate. People are after her, going to cause her pain," Draco said after a moment, watching her intently.

 

"She escaped from the hospital wing, and the nurses started running after her," Pansy said when Blaise looked to her for an explanation.

 

"You let them run after her when she just had magic mushrooms?" Blaise asked, his voice practically a growl.

 

"Don't talk to her that way, Zabini," George said, glaring at him as he stepped past them to his sister. "Gin, you need to calm down," he said soothingly, his hand reaching out.

 

The bubble wavered slightly, and then changed colour again. George put his hand near the bubble, but was propelled away from it as if it was electrically charged. He hit the wall with a thud and didn't move.

 

"George!" Pansy cried, hurrying over to him. "George, are you all right?" she asked, running her wand down his body to check for any broken bones.

 

"F-fine," he said groggily, trying to sit up.

 

"No, you're not," Pansy said, seeing the blood that was starting to creep down his neck from the back of his head. "Stay there," she added, a hand on his shoulder to keep him down. "Calm her down, so we can get him to the hospital wing," she told Draco and Blaise, hardly looking away from George.

 

Blaise and Draco shared a look at the caring and worried tone in Pansy's voice, then turned to Ginevra.

 

...

 

Ginny heard a familiar voice. _Very familiar, she should know this voice, she knew that she should. But she couldn't think properly, not when the person was moving towards her_.

 

 _The colours were too bright, hair was too bright red. It hurt, it hurt so much! She pushed the person away from her and turned around again, trying to find an exit. She had to get out. Had to leave. They were too close, she could feel them in her bones. Too many to fight, too many to flee. Had to go now. Now, now, now_!

 

 _There was that calming voice again... Such a lovely voice. But no, she had to concentrate. Stay away, stay away from me_!

 

Another calming voice, the same one as before. _Two lovely voices... Shouldn't be allowed. Too lovely, making her feel ... what? Happy? Dizzy? Breathless? Made her lose her concentration... Two too lovely voices. A spell? They made her feel confused. Had to be a spell. Had to go, go_!

 

Running towards the nearby room, Ginny tried to remember where she'd seen it before, more importantly, if there was a way out. She entered the room and found a lone dummy standing in the middle of the room. _She didn't like that dummy. She didn't know why, she just knew that she didn't. Eyes... Something about eyes_?

 

 _It didn't matter. Keep moving, keep moving on. Nowhere to move on to! She'd trapped herself. Move, disappear! Hurry. Too late! The two-too-lovely-voices -_ she wanted to giggle at the thought _-  had followed her into the small room. Distract them, get around them, get away, get away_...

 

 _How to distract? She was feeling dizzy just by their voices! Dizzy, elated, confused, happy, sad, everything all at once. Maybe they'd be the same_?

 

The bubble wavered, disappearing to everyone else. Ginny knew that it was still up, she could see it in her mind. It was there, just clear until she wanted it another way. _Good protection_.

 

"Let me out," she said clearly, watching both of them carefully, ever so carefully, to see if her voice did anything to them.

 

"We can't do that, Ginevra. We need to get you to calm down first," one - the light one - said, his voice wrapping around her and soothing her.

 

 _How did his voice do that? And what would it be like to have his arms around her? No, concentrate! Think, think, think. Watch for reactions. Move to get out the door_.

 

"Your brother's hurt," the other one said - darker this one, but not in any way less sensual.

 

 _Smooth words, smooth fingers... Concentrate! What had he said? Brother? Who, which brother? Was he even talking to her? Did she have a ... what was it, a brother? Concentrate, they're getting closer. Feel the others, the cold ones. They will hurt, hurt, hurt if don't move. Move now_!

 

"Please. I just want to get out. They're going to hurt me. I don't want to be hurt," she whimpered, her eyes still on them intently.

 

"We won't let them hurt you, Ginevra," the dark one said.

 

"You'll be safe with us," the light one added with a brief nod.

 

"Please, I'll do whatever you want," Ginny said, licking her lips.

 

 _Ha! That got a reaction from both of them! Slightly hooded eyes, pants tightening in their groin area. She was happy, ever so happy about that, but she couldn't let it get in the way. Keep going, almost to the door_.

 

"Anything you want. Now, later... Please, anything and everything," she said, her voice breathless.

 

 _It was all just an act -_ well, maybe not all of it, a smug voice said in her mind _. Where had that voice come from? Ignore it, just keep going. Their eyes are almost closed, keep moving_.

 

"Everything?" a slight hitch in the voice of the light one.

 

"Anything?" the dark one echoed, just as affected as the other one.

 

"Both of you, at the same time," Ginny added.

 

 _Ignore the heart beat that just skipped, ignore the adrenaline and the dampening between the legs. Ignore the tightening of their pants, the tongues that are licking their lips. Ignore, ignore, ignore... Move_!

 

Ginny ran between them, her bubble up once more as she made it out the door. _No, she was too late again! Too late, too many people. Escape back into the other room. Quick_!

 

Running back into the room with the dummy-that-she-didn't-like, and the two-too-lovely-voices, Ginny slammed the door and locked it with a spell.

 

"That wasn't nice, Ginevra," the light one growled.

 

"Not nice at all," the dark one muttered, adjusting his tight pants.

 

Her gaze dropped to their pants, even as her mind screamed against it. _This was the best side affect_ ** _ever_**.

 

 _What side affect? Of what?_ that paranoid voice lessened, almost faded now _. Get out, out. Quick_.

 

Colours dimmed, voices went quieter, and Ginny's vision became blurry slowly. She writhed inside the bubble, the last of the magic mushrooms working through her blood system. She threw up, her vision going black.

 

Coming to, Ginny found herself trapped in a bubble, her knuckles raw, her wand clutched in her hand tightly, and her head throbbing.

 

 _Wasn't the only thing throbbing_ , the voice in her mind added when she noticed exactly where she was staring.

 

Looking up quickly, Ginny saw Draco and Blaise standing there, watching her intently. She felt sick... _But also happy_? she thought in confusion.

 

"What the fuck? Where am I? What's this thing?" she asked.

 

"You took magic mushrooms. You're in the gymnasium. It's a bubble you conjured to protect yourself, and if you wouldn't mind taking it off, we can get out of here and check on George," Draco drawled.

 

"George?" she whispered, the last of her concentration dropping and the bubble disappeared with a pop.

 

Ginny fell to the ground, her knuckles bleeding as she used her clenched hands to stop her fall. Throwing up yet again, she found she didn't have the energy to stand up on her own. She barely had enough energy to stay kneeling on the ground properly.

 

Behind her, the door burst open and practically flew off its hinges in pieces. Some wood chips hit her legs and back, and Ginny bit her tongue to stop from crying out as larger pieces embedded themselves in her skin.

 

She heard Blaise and Draco curse softly and each do a Glamour, but she must have been the only one to hear, as everyone in the gym poured into the tiny room and surrounded her. Except George and Pansy, she knew somehow.

 

"Where's George?" Ginny asked, unable to move from her position due to the pieces of wood embedded in her body.

 

Moving would make them dig in deeper, and she could feel that some of them were large, even in her current position.

 

"Stand up," was all she got in reply.

 

One of the nurses. _The one who had originally scared her and made her run_ , she thought. Some parts of her adventure were coming back to her. _But what about George? What happened to him? He touched the bubble and was thrown across the room, even as she tried to find a way out to escape_.

 

"Is George all right?"

 

"I said for you to stand up!" the nurse said angrily, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a standing position.

 

The wood dug in deeper and she cried out in pain as the nurse bruised her arm with his tight grip at the same time.

 

"Let go of her!" Blaise said, pushing past everyone and taking hold of Ginny's arm- gently, thank goodness.

 

"I'm a nurse, I know what I'm doing," he replied with a sneer.

 

"You're hurting her, you imbecile!" Draco said, glaring.

 

"Everyone step away from Ginevra this instant!" Pansy said from the doorway.

 

She hadn't even had to raise her voice, but everyone immediately moved back, the nurse included. Draco and Blaise stayed by Ginny's side, and she was thankful for that. She didn't want to fall over again, especially not in front of everyone.

 

"You, go to my office and wait there," Pansy said to the nurse, moving forward to inspect Ginevra. "George will be fine. He hit his head and has a slight concussion. There was blood, but it wasn't too bad. Turn her around gently. The door's missing more chips than there are on the floor," she murmured to Draco and Blaise.

 

With a brief nod, they both worked together to turn Ginevra around without causing her more pain.

 

Ginny tried to concentrate on anything but Draco and Blaise's arms on her shoulders and waist.

 

"Bloody hell, you look like a pin cushion, Gin," George said behind her.

 

"Go with the doctor and lie down, George," Pansy said sternly.

 

"Not without Gin. What are you lot staring at?" There was no real response, but George could see their eyes on his missing ear. "It's a hole on the side of my head; doesn't mean I can't hear you! Now scat, the lot of you!" George said, shooing everyone else outside. "You gave me a scare, dearest sister," he said to Ginny, moving around so he was facing her.

 

She smiled, thankful she had something to concentrate on other than Draco and Blaise. "Sorry, brother dearest. Wasn't exactly myself," Ginny murmured.

 

She felt the slight tensing of both Draco and Blaise, and wondered what they were thinking.

 

"Oh, I thought you were exactly the same," he said off-handedly. "What on earth possessed you to eat magic mushrooms?" George asked sternly, his expression reminiscent of Molly's disapproving one from when they were younger.

 

"I ... I don't know," Ginny said, surprised herself. "The last thing I remember is leaving broom training to get to health and nutrition," she said, hissing in pain as Pansy began to remove the larger splinters from her legs.

 

"We know what happened," Morrigan said from the doorway.

 

"Well, we _think_ we know what happened. We didn't see it," Jordan corrected.

 

"Get over here then," George said, waving them over. "You're Ginny's friends? Morrigan and Jordan, I presume?" he asked, smiling at them.

 

"You talk about us? I think I'm happy," Morrigan said, sounding amused. "All good, I hope?"

 

"Of course. Now, tell us what you think happened," George said.

 

"It was after broom training, like Ginny said. She had to go to the bathroom, and then after a minute or so, Claudia said that she needed to go. I thought that was weird, because she'd already gone during lesson, but I figured she'd just gone to escape Baron von Cap'n... Stella, I mean," Morrigan said, going red slightly.

 

"If you thought it was weird, why didn't you go after them?" George asked.

 

Morrigan's eyes flicked to Jordan briefly and she coughed, her red face turning brighter. "I didn't need to go to the bathroom..." she said lamely.

 

"Anyway, when Ginny came into lesson, she didn't even look at us or sit down," Jordan said, his face almost as red as Morrigan's. "She just stood at the wall and waited for the instructor to call on her. And she didn't even hesitate like the rest of us had, she just grabbed the mushrooms and ate them before we could stop her. We weren't even supposed to eat the food, just say what it was!"

 

"I wouldn't have eaten magic mushrooms," Ginny said, shuddering as she remembered some of her mother's warnings and punishments for her brothers if Molly had even seen them _near_ the mushrooms.

 

"We know, that's why we think you were hexed to eat them," Jordan said with a brief nod.

 

"It was the Imperio spell," Morrigan said confidently.

 

"You saw it put on her?" Pansy asked.

 

"No, but I recognise the signs," she replied.

 

"You aren't doing Unforgivables until next month; how do you know about the signs?" George asked, sounding suspicious.

 

"My older brother was put under the spell during Voldemort's reign, and killed my parents when I was nine. I know the signs," Morrigan said, her tone clipped.

 

"Sorry," George murmured quietly.

 

For a while, all that could be heard was the muffled sounds of Ginny's pain as she bit her tongue to keep the cries inside.

 

"You can't do that with a numbing spell, Pans?" George asked when he saw tears leaking from Ginny's eyes.

 

"No, it won't help," Pansy replied briefly.

 

Ginny concentrated on her breathing, trying to get her mind away from the pain. As she did so slowly, the pain no longer became the most important thing in her mind, and she was able to stop crying out.

 

"So where is Claudia?" Pansy asked.

 

"We haven't seen her since we left the class," Jordan replied.

 

Pain suddenly pierced Ginny's peaceful state of mind and she gripped Draco and Blaise tightly, her nails in their skin as needle-thin splinters were pulled from her legs.

 

"Someone find her and bring her here," Pansy said, staring at Ginny's punctured shirt for a moment.

 

Jordan and Morrigan left when no one else volunteered to leave.

 

"You need to take your shirt off, Ginevra. I can't get the splinters out without seeing them, and George was right, you practically are a pin cushion at the moment. I managed to get all the ones out from your legs because of your gym shorts though," Pansy said. "Do you want me to get someone else in to hold you up?" she asked, her eyes flickering to Draco and Blaise.

 

"It's fine; they can't see anything, and I don't trust that anyone else is strong enough to hold me up. George, why don't you help Pansy?" Ginny said, grinning at him briefly.

 

George just nodded and went over to Pansy, even as she started to cut Ginny's shirt with her wand.

 

"Be careful, she's in pain," Draco said quietly.

 

Pansy looked up at Draco in surprise, then to Blaise. After a moment, she nodded in response, and returned to her work.

 

"Ohmigod! What happened?" Claudia asked as she arrived, Morrigan and Jordan behind her. "Hi Draco; hi Blaise," she added, seeing them properly.

 

Neither one answered, and Ginny had to bite back a scream as Pansy pulled splinters out of her shoulder blades. She clung to Draco and Blaise tighter.

 

"George, continue for a moment. I want to talk to her," Pansy said, getting up when George nodded and started to take the splinters out of Ginny carefully.

 

"Hi, Pansy. What's going on? What happened to Ginevra?" Claudia asked, her face the picture of pure innocence.

 

 _Far too innocent_ , in Pansy's opinion. Taking a moment to look at the younger woman before her, Pansy wasn't overly surprised when she saw a shininess to her face that wasn't natural. A Glamour, she decided as she pointed her wand at Claudia's face.

 

"What are you doing?" Claudia asked, her voice rising to a shrill pitch.

 

George was beside Pansy in a moment as she thought the spell. A wind blew through the room, removing the Glamour on Claudia's face.

 

"Oh, I recognise that!" George said, grinning at Pansy. "So does Draco, if I remember correctly."

 

"What's he talking about?" Ginny asked Draco and Blaise quietly as she struggled to stand by herself.

 

They both helped her to stand properly, keeping their eyes averted slightly when the last of her shirt fell to pieces off her body. Ginny figured she didn't have any such scruples and glanced down. Their Glamours had disappeared with Pansy's spell, and they were hard again. She licked her lips slightly.

 

 _Happy, elated, can't think properly..._ The feelings from earlier floated into her mind once more _. Or were they new feelings_? Ginny wondered.

 

"Bat Bogey Hex," Draco said, redirecting her attention quickly.

 

Blaise redid their Glamours quickly and silently, neither one looking at Ginny.

 

"I remember doing that spell," Ginny murmured, turning quickly and gasping in pain as splinters pulled on her muscles, blood starting to seep from some of the worse holes. "You hexed me so I'd eat those mushrooms!"

 

"No! I didn't," Claudia said quickly.

 

"Veritaserum can sort this out, there's no need to throw accusations around," Pansy said. "I've removed the largest of the splinters, and the rest are small ones. I can pull them all out at once with a spell. It will be painful and bloody though. Are you all right with that?" she asked, moving back to Ginny.

 

"Fine. Not like my back can't take another few holes," she said with a slight grin, turning around to show her back to Pansy once more.

 

"I'm putting a silencing spell on you so you don't deafen us. George, make sure Claudia doesn't get away. Draco, Blaise, hold onto Ginevra tightly," Pansy instructed.

 

In a moment, Claudia was cursing at George behind them, and Ginny's arms were being held tightly by Draco and Blaise. She relaxed slightly as the silencing spell was put over her.

 

There was no warning, no sound or hand to hold her down from behind. Not a thing to signify that hundreds of minuscule pieces of wood were about to burst out of her skin and drop harmlessly on the floor around her. No word of warning to say that blood was going to drip from every one of those tiny holes, soaking her already-ruined bra and pants instantly.

 

A silent scream of pain rang from Ginny's mouth, and she was almost sure that she broke the spell and heard herself screaming. _Maybe that was someone else? Claudia? Morrigan? George, even_? Either way, she was screaming and she was screaming loudly.

 

"It's over, Ginevra," she heard a voice murmuring in her ear.

 

"You're all right," another voice murmured softly.

 

"Calm down..."

 

 _The two-too-lovely-voices! No... Draco and Blaise. Draco and Blaise were murmuring in her ear, comforting her_. She relaxed in their arms almost immediately and blacked out knowing that she was safe with them...

 

"That's odd," George said, looking thoughtful.

 

"What is?" Pansy asked absent-mindedly as she quickly said a spell to sweep the wood away.

 

"She looks relaxed."

 

"She's unconscious, George," Pansy replied.

 

"We know that Pansy, but we've never seen her this relaxed before. Not since before her first year at least," George murmured, not realising his slip.

 

"George, go with Draco and Blaise to the hospital and make sure Ginevra's all right. You, come with me to my office," Pansy said to Claudia, practically leading her out of the gymnasium. "Everyone left over is on clean up duty! I want this place looking better than it did this morning! Now get to it!"

 

The witches and wizards in the room hurried to do what she said, not even daring to look at each other until Pansy was long gone.

 

...

 

End of the eighth chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

"Just relax Claudia. If you didn't do anything, then there's nothing to worry about, is there?" Pansy asked as she sat across from her.

Claudia still looked nervous, but she nodded briefly.

"Drink your tea; it'll help you relax. Then we'll get the Veritaserum in here to sort this mess out," Pansy said with a reassuring smile.

Nodding again, Claudia took a deep breath and drank her tea slowly, her eyes never leaving Pansy.

"Now, do you feel more relaxed?" Pansy asked, still smiling.

"Not overly," Claudia said, her eyes widening as she realised what she'd said.

The tea cup and saucer fell onto Pansy's desk, tea laced with Veritaserum spilling onto the dark cherry wood.

"Excellent. Now, did you or did you not put Ginevra Molly Weasley under the Imperius Curse and make her eat magic mushrooms?" Pansy asked, cleaning the spilled substance with a silent thought and quick flick of her wand.

Biting her tongue hard, Claudia tried to think of something else. Tried to push away the feeling that was increasing pressure on her brain. She had to answer, if only to ease this dull thumping pain in her head. She bit her tongue harder still.

"I did," Claudia replied, blood seeping from the sides of her mouth.

"Very well. Wait outside until I've called you back in. Send the nurse in," Pansy added, the door opening quietly behind Claudia.

Claudia sat on the chair, her foot tapping out her anxiety. She barely even noticed the nurse as he left Pansy's office, his medic badge ripped from his robe.

"Claudia, why did you put the Imperius Curse on Ginevra?" Pansy asked, standing in the doorway of her office and watching as the younger woman freaked out, as Fred would have said.

"Jealousy," Claudia replied instantly, too nervous to try and stop her answer.

Pansy resisted the urge to run a hand through her hair, rub her eyes, massage her temples, or sigh. To do any of these actions would be to show her exhaustion, and exploit her own vulnerability.

"Come inside, Claudia," Pansy said, going back to her desk.

Wary and still nervous, Claudia followed Pansy cautiously, closing the door behind her.

"How are you feeling, Gin?" George asked as she stirred from her sleep.

Ginny blinked slowly, licking her dry lips. She was in the hospital ward at Cloffice, George was sitting beside her looking worried.

"Could be better," she replied. "Water?" she asked, struggling to sit up.

"They bound you so you wouldn't hurt yourself," George explained softly, resting a hand on her shoulder gently.

He held a cup to her lips, tipping it slowly so she could drink slowly.

She'd done the same thing for him when he was in St. Mungo's after the war. George's head was bandaged up from the self-inflicted damage to his already-lost ear, causing the extra scarring around the hole in his head. He hadn't slept in almost two weeks; since Fred's death, and almost a week and a half after his twin's funeral. Ginny herself hadn't been sleeping well, but the bags under George's eyes made her own seem tiny in comparison. She'd stayed by his side day in, day out, refusing to leave even when the visitors' hours had passed. The medics had bound George to the bed so he couldn't move and hurt himself again.

The entire Weasley family had come for just the one day. Together with the medics, they whispered words like 'suicidal' when they thought he couldn't hear and looked at him with pity or disappointment. However, when he looked at Ginny, George heard nothing and had seen only compassion in his sister's eyes and a deeper understanding. She was the only earthly thing that had kept him from trying to take his life again.

"Not too much, dearest sister," George murmured, taking the cup away.

"Thank you," she murmured, sighing. "Have you been sleeping?" she asked, looking at the bags under his eyes with a glare.

"No, he hasn't," Pansy said, walking into the room with her own half-hearted glare directed at George's tired frame.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay first. You lost a lot of blood," George said, too tired to defend himself further.

"I'm fine, George. Go home and sleep now," Ginny said, her hand moving slightly to pat his freckled one.

"Go on," Pansy added with a nod towards the fireplace.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, George barely managed to get over to the fireplace and throw in Floo powder. Stumbling slightly into his apartment, George collapsed on the lounge and slept.

"Why did you put a sleeping spell on George? What didn't you want him to hear?" Ginny asked, frowning slightly.

"He wouldn't have gone if I hadn't," Pansy replied, sitting down next to her and removing the binding spell. "Be careful when you move, your body will still be extremely tender."

Ginny just nodded and waited for her second question to be answered.

"I came to ask you a question regarding Claudia," Pansy said a moment later. "She is to stay in Cloffice under probation. Let me finish," she added when Ginny opened her mouth. "Unforgivables aren't covered until next month, as you know, and they are extremely difficult to perform without prior knowledge. Before this week, Claudia had never done an Unforgivable. That she did one on the spur of the moment ... Well, it's surprising to discover her hidden talents. Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Ginevra?"

"You're keeping her here on probation because she has a lot of power that can be used in whatever job it is she'll get working for Cloffice. You're keeping her because you can use her power," Ginny replied.

"In a word, yes. Now that you understand that, I would like to know if you are comfortable being in the same class schedule as Claudia still? I can have either of you changed to a different slot so you only have to see each other as little as possible," Pansy offered.

"If I wasn't George's sister, would you be offering this to me?" Ginny asked, her eyebrow raised slightly.

"Yes, I would. I have offered this before, and I will probably have to again. The Cloffice doesn't appreciate unnecessary complications; they can disrupt important learning experiences that will be vital once you have graduated."

Ginny nodded, believing Pansy immediately. She had no reason to lie. "I will stay in the same class schedule as Claudia," Ginny said, nodding firmly.

"May I ask your reason? I will not allow it if it is a plot for revenge or the like," Pansy said.

"Once we graduate, Claudia and I will probably have to see each other, am I right?" Ginny asked, continuing when Pansy nodded briefly. "Then I do not want people to become suspicious of our deep hostility when we'll probably have to pretend we've never seen each other before. By staying in the same classes as her, we will both have a chance to get over it faster, and we won't compromise each other later in life."

Pansy smiled slightly, and nodded, business-like once more. "Very well. You should go home and rest now, Ginevra. The spell I did on George was a brief one, so he will be awake soon enough. I will see you tomorrow," she said, leaving the hospital ward.

Ginny sat up slowly and carefully, wincing slightly when her skin stretched to accommodate her movement. Transfiguring her wand into a handheld mirror, Ginny moved it so she could see her back. There were still hundreds of tiny holes on her back, and from what she could feel of her legs, they were still there too. Some of the holes had a healing-red look to them, while other larger ones looked like they would scab and/or scar.

"Lucky I don't have any backless clothes," she muttered to herself. Molly would question the presence of so many scars immediately, especially since she didn't have them after the war.

Standing carefully, Ginny eased her body into a stretch before moving to grab her robe from the back of the chair. She was clad in only shorts and her gym training bra, since her shirt had fallen to pieces ...  _had it happened earlier today, yesterday, or was it the day before_? ... whenever it was she'd been forced to eat those magic mushrooms.

There was a knock at the door seconds after Ginny had finished buttoning her robe.

"Come in," she called, realising that she was the only one in the ward.

"Thank the gods' you're awake. I was so worried, you know. There was so much blood in the gym, and half of it is stained in the door itself. It won't come out, even with the best removal spells. Are you feeling all right?" Morrigan asked, her eyes bright with concern.

"Hi Morrigan. I'm feeling better, thanks," she replied with a smile. "Hi Jordan."

"Hi Ginny. Sure you're all right? You look a bit stiff," Jordan said, frowning.

"I'll survive. I'm going home to sleep it off, so I'll see you both tomorrow, okay?" Ginny said.

Both her friends agreed and said their goodbyes as she Flooed through the fireplace.

Smiling at George's still-sleeping form, Ginny covered him with the blanket hanging from the back of the lounge.

He must be exhausted if the spell Pansy used was already supposed to have worn off, she mused. Leaving the room quietly, Ginny headed to her room to get changed and rest herself.

 _Draco was whispering to her, his mouth so close to her ear she could feel his breath tickling her skin. His arm was wrapped around her waist and he stroked her exposed flesh with his fingertips, sending thrills of excitement speeding through her body. Blaise stepped forward, his mouth brushing against her neck as he too, whispered to her. His body was pressed so close to hers that she could feel his heat radiating and warming her_.

She didn't even bother trying to listen to what they were saying, too intent on the feelings they were creating.

Both Draco and Blaise smirked against her skin as she moaned.

"All right there, Gin?" Blaise and Draco's sweet voices faded as she recognised her brother's voice.

Waking up abruptly, Ginny sat up quickly and saw George was at her door.

"You were moaning; you all right?" George asked, frowning in concern.

"Bit sore," she replied, thinking of the lie quickly.

"Want me to take a look?" he asked, stepping forward.

A loud ringing sound began, and Ginny moved to grab her Alarm Quill, twisting the feather to stop the noise.

"Since you're already up, I guess you don't need the bucket of water this morning," George said cheerfully, leaving her room with the bucket in his hands.

Her dream still lingering in her mind, Ginny almost called him back to dump the water on her anyway.

 _Broom training. Of course it's broom bloody training! Why wouldn't it be_? Ginny thought to herself, feeling sour.  _The night I had, that damn erotic dream, and the first lesson has me with a hard wooden broom between my legs! Fate, thou art a cruel bitch_.

She swerved around Morrigan's Cleansweep Sixty, and continued to speed past on her Firebolt.

A whistle sounded, and they all came to an abrupt halt.

"All of you swap brooms, but don't mount yet," Stella instructed.

Landing quickly, they swapped brooms. Ginny ended up with the Cleansweep Sixty. She touched the handle gently, her fingers running along the bumps in the wood. The familiarity of the broom lifted her sour mood slightly. It reminded her of her childhood, of sneaking out of the house to fly when her brothers' weren't looking.

"Partner up!" Stella yelled.

Confused, Ginny looked up to see Draco, Blaise, and two other wizards standing together. Draco and Blaise were watching her with dark eyes, and she almost let go of the broom, realising what it must have looked like from their point of view. They both walked towards her, and her heart skipped a beat. Ginny refrained from pounding her chest to get her heart started again, and slowly focused on her breathing instead.

"Be my partner, Draco?" Claudia simpered, her eyes wide as she moved directly in front of him.

He gave a minute nod, not looking at all happy.

"Ginevra, do you mind?" Blaise asked, coming to a stop in front of her.

"Not at all," she replied, quite pleased that her voice sounded normal.

"Mount! Remember the objective: keep your passenger with you at all times," Stella called.

Ginny got on the broom, trying to keep her thoughts innocent as Blaise moved behind her, his arm around her waist.

The whistle blew loudly and Ginny moved the broom up into the air. She could smell Blaise's scent at this close distance.  _Was it cologne? Or did he always smell this good_? She breathed the scent in deeply, her eyes starting to flutter closed.

A hex flew straight at them, jerking Ginny out of her thoughts abruptly. Stella was on the ground sending hexes and spells all through the room. They bounced off the walls, only disintegrating after five seconds, which was long enough for a few welts and cries of pain from all of them.

 _Right, Gin. Concentrate_! she thought to herself hard. Adjusting her body slightly, she ignored the pain that came from her back, and moved her legs so that they were hooked around the handle of the broom, her feet practically pressing into Blaise's arse.

"Move closer; I need to manoeuvre," she called back over her shoulder to him.

Blaise did as she said, his body pressing hard against hers. Her stomach tumbled and she bit her tongue to force herself to focus.

Weaving past two oncoming hexes, Ginny flew straight at another hex.  _Three, four, five_... she counted, the spell disappearing just as they moved into it.

"Nice move," Blaise said in appreciation, his voice in her ear.

Her heart skipped, causing a loss of a mere second of concentration from the flying spells around them. Blaise was hit with an Expelliarmus spell and fell from the broom.

Cursing at herself, Ginny dived after him, the slow Cleansweep Sixty losing air quickly. She tried to think back to her childhood, trying to remember every familiar trick in the book when it came to making Cleansweeps go faster. Pointing her wand at the broom's bristles behind her, Ginny thought a spell and some of the broom was shaved off quickly. Her speed increased and she fell faster, moving towards Blaise faster still.

 _Not fast enough. Faster, need more speed. Less acceleration, less friction, less ... magic_. Magic was keeping the broom in the air, and that's what was slowing her down. She needed to be her normal weight without the broom's own gravity so she could reach Blaise.

Pressing a point in the broom handle, she felt it shudder beneath her. The broom continued to shudder faster, slowing her down somewhat. She was still hurtling towards the ground, and Blaise was continuing to fall freely. The hexes were continuing to fly, and with one last shudder, the Cleansweep died beneath her body. She plummeted towards the ground with not one piece of magic to stop her. Catching up to Blaise in less than three seconds, Ginny grabbed hold of his arms and with a slight bit of difficulty, she moved him onto the broom behind her once more.

"What do we do now?" Blaise yelled as they continued to fall.

Ginny ignored him and started to press the handle again.  _Gods', she hadn't done this in so long! Was it that spot, or was it the second line_? she thought in a temporary panic. Taking a deep breath, she pressed both the spot and the line on the handle and waited for the familiar shudder.

Nothing happened. Pressing tighter, so much that she thought the handle would break, Ginny closed her eyes as the ground got closer still.  _Would she die like this? Would she kill Blaise? Would she leave George alone over a stupid bloody **broom**_? Starting to get angry, Ginny kicked the broom handle and almost crowed in joy as the broom returned to life. Pulling up quickly, she dodged a hex from Stella and continued up into the air.

Behind her, Blaise was whispering fervently. It was only then that she noticed the white-knuckled grip he had about her waist, his fingers digging into her skin.

"All right there, Blaise?" she called, looking back briefly.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, Ginevra. You scared the Otherworld out of me," he muttered, his eyes scrunched shut.

"You're alive," she replied, attempting to shrug it off.

"Not what I meant," she thought she heard him say, but then had to dodge another hex, and her mind dismissed it, becoming more preoccupied with keeping them both on the broom.

A few minutes later, the whistle blew loudly and they went to land on the ground. Draco was off the broom in seconds, his face covered in boils and his hair singed.

"What on earth happened to you?" Blaise asked, his eyebrow raised in surprise.

"I was hit by hexes, what does it look like?" Draco muttered, glaring at Claudia.

"Well, if you'd stopped moving around and trying to fly the broom yourself, you would have been fine!" Claudia retorted, glaring straight back at him. "Blaise fell off Ginevra's broom, not ours, and she dealt with it fine."

"Yeah, how did you do that to your broom?" Morrigan asked.

" _Cleansweeper tricks and hints_ , page one-hundred and twenty," Stella informed them. "Swap brooms and partners and go again," she said.

"There's a book?" Ginny asked Stella, frowning.

"You mean you did that without knowing about it?" Stella replied, looking incredulous.

"I did it when I was much younger, but I thought it was an accident. It was a second-hand broom, I just thought it was worn out," she replied, shrugging.

Stella just shook her head and repeated her previous instruction. By the time Draco had finished fixing his face and hair, one of the other wizards had already stepped forward to go with Ginny. She tried not to let her disappointment show, and hurried to concentrate on the spells bouncing off the walls around them.

Her charge was hit with one spell, having sat up even after she'd told him to keep down. His inflating head was actually heavy, and Ginny struggled to keep them in the air as well as dodge spells at the same time as trying to remove the spell from him.

The next time, Ginny asked Draco to fly with her, not liking the leering look of the fourth wizard at all. She'd seen him trying to grope Morrigan as they flew, and refrained from cheering loudly when her friend moved him straight into an oncoming hex. Ginny was certain she'd still have to fly with him, but she'd rather it at the end of the lesson so she could go clean herself of his wandering hands. Seeing the angry look on Jordan's face, Ginny almost felt sorry for the wizard as he got on the broom behind him.

"Ready?" Draco's velvet voice whispered from behind her, his tone seeming to caress her skin.

Her stomach tightened in response and the memory of her dream returned in full force as he wrapped his arms around her body.

The whistle blew, startling Ginny. Gripping the Nimbus 2000's handle, she kicked off the ground quickly, trying to even out her breathing and concentrate on the fast broom beneath her instead of the arms of the wizard behind her. Or his hands, which seemed to be moving upwards rather than holding onto her waist.

"Concentrate," she told herself, narrowly dodging a spell.

"I've noticed you tell yourself to concentrate a lot, Ginevra. Is it a regular occurrence, or is it an effect of being near me?" Draco asked, amusement laced in his tone.

She tried to ignore him -  _oh gods', she could smell his scent too. Cologne or natural_? the little voice in her mind asked, almost begged her to find out - but as his fingers started to brush against her breast, Ginny found that she wasn't able to ignore him in the slightest.

"Don't. Need to concentrate," she said between clenched teeth.

If Ginny moved her teeth, the moan that was hiding behind them would slip out and that would be too much for her to handle.

"And if you didn't need to concentrate?" Draco murmured, his lips dangerously close to her neck.

She bit her lip. That damn moan was desperately trying to escape, despite her best efforts to keep it locked away inside.

 _What was she doing? She was practically melting into an emotional puddle. If she didn't harden herself now, then she'd fail this training - it had happened to others before - and she would no longer be allowed in the Cloffice. She had to concentrate so she could stay_.

The thought of having to leave scared Ginny more than she liked to admit, and gritting her teeth, she swallowed her moan and stopped the broom abruptly, just as a spell faded over them. Other spells were coming their way; too many to dodge, and more than enough to hit Draco off the broom.  _There was only one option_...

"Hold on tight," she warned, barely a second before she headed into a downward spiral.

Behind them the spells hit each other, exploding into fireworks of light before fading. Draco's grip around her waist tightened and he moved closer to her, just as Blaise had done.

Spinning around in tiny circles, Ginny wasn't sure if she dodged the spells purely out of luck or because they were plummeting down so quickly that the spells themselves were confused at the red and blonde blur she and Draco had become. Stopping suddenly, she tried to ensure her dizziness didn't affect her flight plan, and veered right quickly.

There was a sickened groan behind her, and Ginny's eyebrows knitted together. "Don't you dare throw up on me, Draco," she muttered loud enough for him to hear.

His face nuzzled into her hair and she wasn't overly sure if she minded or not. So long as he wasn't sick down the back of her robe, Ginny supposed it was fine.

The whistle sounded loudly and she landed on the ground gently, trying to lessen the spinning in her own mind as well as Draco's.

"All right there, Draco? You're looking a bit pale," Blaise commented as he and Morrigan landed beside them.

Draco opened his eyes long enough to glare at Blaise.

A moment later, Claudia and her partner landed, both looking a little frazzled. It was nothing compared to Jordan and the leering wizard; the latter was covered in various maladies, welts and boils. Stella shook her head when she saw them.

"What happened here?"

"We got hit by a few curses and hexes, ma'am," Jordan replied.

"Obviously," she drawled, not looking very impressed. "Well, at least you kept your passenger. Come on, let's get you healed," she said, getting the other wizard in Draco and Blaise's to lead the injured wizard out. "Jordan, take Morrigan and Claudia. Try to make sure they don't get hexed this time. Ginevra, you take Draco and Blaise," Stella said. "The Firebolt and the Nimbus 2001 are the longest brooms so use those."

Jordan and Ginny took the brooms, waiting patiently as their passengers moved onto the handle behind them.

With Draco directly behind her, his body pressed flush up against her, and Blaise's hard body pressing against his, Ginny's mind couldn't help but wander.

The whistle blew loudly. Ginny took a moment to get in the air, not entirely confident with three people on the broom. Especially when those two people smelled as good as they did, their bodies pressed against her, their hands touching her in both innocent and not-so-innocent places. Draco's arm was around her waist, as before, while Blaise's arm was reaching around Draco's waist to hold onto her robe. A flash of emotion went through her mind, pleased that they both wanted to touch her.

 _She was being hopeful and silly, of course. Draco had only said those things earlier to stir her up, and Blaise was only holding on to her because she was flying the broom. It was nothing more than that. Of course it wouldn't be_.

 _Concentrate. Focus_.

"Move with me," she called over her shoulder, leaning down closer to the broom handle.

Almost in sync, Draco and Blaise moved their bodies so they were against her once more, and trying to push her thoughts away, Ginny manoeuvred the broom past spells. She felt one graze her leg, but continued to fly on. There seemed to be more spells than there had been before, and her eyes narrowed as she tried to anticipate spells from all four sides. It was harder to dodge ones from behind when she couldn't see them, so Ginny quickly transfigured a strand of hair into a mirror to keep an eye on the spells from behind.

From their singed robes and relieved looks, Draco and Blaise seemed to appreciate the mirror, and murmured when to turn to dodge spells so she could concentrate on the front and sides.

Spinning, dodging, veering sharply, and even flying vertically up the wall at one point, Ginny kept an ear out for the whistle, hoping Stella would blow it soon and the spells would stop.

 _Liar, you don't want this to end_ , the voice in her mind said knowingly.

She ignored it and kept flying. Heading towards the roof, Ginny flew up past Jordan, Morrigan, and Claudia quickly, barely missing a fading spell.

"The spells aren't getting this far up yet. Stop for a moment, Ginevra," Blaise said.

Surprised, Ginny stopped and looked back at them. "All right?" she asked, frowning.

Draco didn't reply, instead moving closer to her still. She hadn't thought there was any space between them, but as she felt every part of his chest against her back, Ginny decided that it was better not to waste space. Blaise moved forward too, his hands moving to hold her hips. Draco's hand resumed their earlier position at her breasts, and a soft moan finally escaped Ginny's mouth. Blaise's fingertips moved in circular motions and she gripped the broom handle tighter, wishing she could rub herself against it without looking desperate to the two men touching her.

 _That's not the broom handle_ , she thought a moment later, her mind hazy and somewhat dazed as she registered the fact that something hard was pressing up against her arse.

A light appeared in the corner of her eyesight, and Ginny looked at the mirror to see at least three hexes coming towards them. Cursing loudly, she moved down against the broom handle and motioned for Draco and Blaise to follow suit.

"Not again," Draco groaned, shutting his eyes tightly.

Ignoring his complaint, Ginny headed downwards quickly. She didn't spiral, instinctively knowing that Draco would be sick this time.

Spells came faster and harder before. She was hit by more than one as they flew towards the ground, welts, boils and singed skin following in their wake.

Just as they were a few metres above the ground, the whistle finally sounded. Sighing in relief, Ginny headed down and landed gently. The mirror enchantment on her strand of hair disappeared and the single red hair floated away gently. As she turned to face Stella, Ginny thought she saw Draco's hand reach out and take the hair from mid-air, but she dismissed it as a crazy thought and paid attention to her instructor, who was now healing their wounded and hexed bodies.

...

End of the ninth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

"This is your last week in Training Centre One," George said suddenly when they were visiting Fred's grave that Sunday.

"Mmm, so?" Ginny murmured, the Butterbeer making her tired.

"Scared?" he asked, looking both serious and curious.

"No. I don't think I am, at least," Ginny replied.

Draco and Blaise wouldn't be in the Training Centre all this week - the previous week had been their final week for that centre, and they were to move on to the second location. Ginny would miss their presence. Not that she'd admit it, of course. Claudia was doing that enough for the both of them.

"No, I'm not scared, but I'm a bit curious to see how I go. Everyone knows about the fourth week's rumours, of course," Ginny said with a slightly put-out grin.

The rumours abounded through the cafeteria, with tales of hot and hard sex, kinky foursomes and full blown orgies passing over lips and into ears faster than anyone could think. The tales seemed to get wilder with every passing person, and Ginny had no idea what to believe anymore.

George, her favourite brother, the one who had already finished training, the one who knew exactly what they fourth week entailed, refused to tell her a thing. He just smiled knowingly, infuriating her with that faraway look in his eyes, and shook his head whenever Ginny questioned him. She was contemplating putting Veritaserum in his Butterbeer just to get a straight answer out of him.

"You'll be fine. You know what they say..."

" _Always look on the bright side of life_?" Ginny teased.

"Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best."

"What would be the best in this case then?" she asked.

"You'll see," George said.

Shaking her head, Ginny sighed and stood up. Brushing the leaves from her robes, she began to pack their glasses and used bottles.

"What're you doing that for?" George asked, frowning. He looked around for other mourners: their usual reason for leaving early, but saw no one.

"You'll see," Ginny replied, smirking.

 _Where did you learn to smirk like that, little sister_? George thought in surprise.

A tiniest pop sounded behind him, redirecting his thoughts immediately. He recognised that Apparation sound - he'd recognise it anywhere.

"Pansy?" he still questioned, looking to the sound.

"Hello, George," she answered softly, stepping out.

"Talk to you later, Fred," Ginny whispered, placing the Chocolate Frog on top of his tombstone. She Apparated without another word, knowing that neither George nor Pansy would answer even if she did say something.

Arriving in the apartment, Ginny set the bottles and glasses to rinse out in the sink. She sat on the lounge, determined to begin one of the latest novels she'd purchased but never seemed to have the time or energy to read. Not even five minutes later, the book was thrown to the end of the couch in a restless fit.

She wanted something to do, somewhere to go. She hadn't gone anywhere other than the Cloffice in over a month! _The Burrow_ didn't count; it was a forced ritual and she rarely enjoyed her mother's inquisition and questions over dinner.

Getting up once more, Ginny grabbed a robe and scarf then headed out the door. She wondered if she could call Morrigan or Jordan to meet her for drinks somewhere. It wasn't encouraged to be friends outside of the Cloffice, especially if you had no known associations. It would be too easy for people to wonder why two people were meeting who had never met each other before, and yet they looked like they'd been friends for years. Wizards and witches were a fairly suspicious lot nowadays.

 _Hermione and Ron were out, as they would want to talk about Harry. Luna was off gods' know where hunting Nargles (or was it Snarkine season now?), and even Neville was off at Hogwarts teaching Herbology_.

Stopping in front of a building, Ginny realised that she'd made her way to the front office of _The Quibbler_. She hadn't been in the front door before, not even for her interview. Curiosity took over and she went inside.

Seeing the receptionist and front desk in the main foyer, Ginny looked to the side and noticed the fireplace to the right; the same fireplace she'd come through for her interview.

 _Of course it was. What else had she expected_? the little voice in her mind asked, sounding both amused and annoyed.

Ginny didn't know how to answer that question, so she didn't. Turning to leave again, she stopped short when the receptionist called her name.

"Ah, Miss Weasley, it is you. Is everything all right?" she asked, smiling brightly.

"Everything is fine, thank you. I just wanted to come into the office and get a head start on tomorrow's work," Ginny said, lying efficiently and without hesitation.

"Of course. Go right through," she replied, her smile getting brighter.

Ginny nodded curtly, heading past the reception desk and to her office. Opening the door, Ginny wasn't surprised to see that everything was as she had left it Friday afternoon. There was even a faint whiff of the perfume she'd put on before leaving in order to cover up the slight smell of sweat. She was required to sign various contracts with her own signature - some things her stand-in couldn't do due to recognition quills - and she also had to leave the office or else people would wonder how she got home all the time without her Floo's being logged on _The Quibbler_ 's fireplace records.

"Great. Now what?" she muttered to herself, realising that she couldn't leave without at least having done some 'work'. The receptionist would want to talk to her on the way out, as she always did, so Ginny couldn't just Apparate or Floo home.

Ginny did a quick spell on the door to make whoever opened it believe that she had just stepped out to go to the bathroom. She didn't want to have to explain why she wasn't in her office if the receptionist came to call.

Throwing some Floo Powder in the fireplace, Ginny stepped into the green flames.

"The Cloffice," she said, disappearing.

Not even five minutes later, Ginny was standing in the middle of the gym wearing just her training outfit.

 _I wanted to go out, and where did I end up? Back at work, where I am for the other five days of the week_! she thought to herself, shaking her head.

 _You wanted to see if Draco and Blaise came here on weekends_ , that voice piped up, sounding triumphant. _You wanted to see them one last time before they left and you wouldn't see them for a whole week. Poor Ginny_ , the voice said sarcastically.

"Gods', you're annoying," she muttered to the voice, beginning her workout nonetheless.

"Still talking to yourself, Ginevra?" a voice drawled behind her.

Ginny stilled immediately. _This couldn't be right. It had to be a dream. It was all just a stupid dream that her subconscious was playing on her weakness and feelings and loneliness. She was just hearing things_. She continued to work out and refused to turn around.

"What on earth are you doing here on a weekend, Ginevra?" another voice asked, sounding surprised.

 _Oh, she couldn't be dreaming. Those voices. Those two-too-lovely voices that sent thrills up her spine, the voices that wrapped around her body and warmed her to her very core. Those were the voices she attempted to capture in every dream she'd had of them for the past two weeks. The lilt and softness of their voices, the commanding and demanding presence they had simply by opening their mouths. That perfection eluded her dreams every single time, and she had no reason to think that this time would be any different_.

 _So it was definite then. She was at work on a Sunday, the two men she lusted after (was it more than that? She didn't know yet herself) were in the same room as her, and they were completely alone_.

 _Maybe it was a nightmare instead_.

"I'm training. What are you two doing here?" she asked, turning to look at Draco and Blaise. They were both in their gym outfits and she forced herself to not look down. Not when they were in tight shorts that showed everything a bit too clearly...

"Training," they chorused, their voice blending together as they both smirked at her slowly.

She fought the urge to tremble and tried not to think of how their smirks looked so predatory. _Or how they were watching her like they wanted to lick every part of her body with their tongues. No, she definitely wasn't thinking of that_.

"You don't have your own personal gymnasiums?" Ginny asked in surprise.

_Look, I can actually talk and function while they're around! Mother would be so proud..._

"Of course. But this one offers more privacy," Draco replied.

They started to train on the bicycles, their legs moving around smoothly. She watched their legs for a moment, entranced. She looked up quickly when she realised Blaise was speaking, and berated herself for being entranced by their legs. _What was she, a silly hormonal third-year_?

"Our mothers can be quite overbearing, especially since we _haven't seen them for more than an hour since we got back from that silly romp across the country_ ," Blaise said, his higher pitch mimicking his mother.

"They can be very inquisitive as well; always wondering where we're going, who we're going to be with, always afraid that _we're going to run off again without a single word to let them know of our safety_ ," Draco said, now imitating his own mother.

"Be thankful you never had your mother trying to push you into a marriage with Harry Potter because she wants _at least five grandchildren before she dies_ ," Ginny replied, parroting her mother with a grin.

"I suppose we are lucky in that respect," Blaise conceded, smirking.

"Speak for yourself. Mother tried to get me to marry Pansy, and when she refused, Mother then attempted to get an agreement with Millicent Bulstrode," Draco said, shuddering.

"Pansy refused you?" Ginny asked.

"Of course she did. She had every right to refuse since she didn't love me," Draco replied, shrugging briefly.

Remembering the way Pansy had looked at George this afternoon, Ginny nodded. She was glad Pansy had refused Draco.

"Millicent Bulstrode? Really?" Blaise asked, looking amused.

"Shut it, Zabini, or I'll tell your mother Bulstrode's single and interested in you," Draco threatened.

"I wouldn't dare of opening it then," Blaise replied, grinning.

"Millicent Bulstrode? Why not one of the Greengrass sisters at least?" Ginny asked.

"They can only trace their wizarding heritage back four generations while the Bulstrode family have been around for seven generations," Draco replied, glaring at Blaise who looked ready to laugh.

Ginny was silent, wondering how many generations her family could be traced back. _Not that she cared, really. Or that it mattered. Really_.

"How many generations do both of you go back then?" she asked.

"Fifteen," Draco replied.

"Ten, at least. There's a couple of inconsistencies with some of my ancestor's tales, but it's a definite ten in the very least," Blaise replied, grinning.

Nodding briefly, Ginny went silent, focusing on her workout instead.

 _There was Uncle Barnabus. He was Mum's great-great-great-great-great uncle, so that's six generations_ , Ginny caught herself thinking when her Alarm Quill sounded. Changing the alarm for another twenty minutes, she changed to the next training cycle and continued.

"Where are you going?" she asked Draco and Blaise, realising that they were moving into the side room with the dummy.

She hadn't been in there since parts of the door had been removed from her body. The door really was stained with blood, as Morrigan had told her, and people had already begun to exaggerate what had happened. Ginny had heard that the blood was really from a demon that was housed inside the dummy. If she hadn't known what had happened - or if it hadn't happened directly to her - that was one of the tales she could believe.

"We're going to train on brooms. Care to join us?" Draco asked, his tone full of suggestion.

 _YES! Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes_!

Ginny thought of them flying around her; _their hands gripping the wood between their thighs, flying so close she could smell them, whispering to her as they stroked the broom handle_...

"N-no," she said, licking her dry lips. "I've got to finish this cycle first," she added, leaving the invitation open.

"Well, maybe when you're finished then," Blaise replied with a grin. He grabbed Draco by the arm and practically dragged him into the room quickly. Whispers floated out of the room.

As she was now alone, the radio started blaring some loud pumping songs. Ginny almost hexed the radio for destroying the whisper. Grumbling to herself, she continued through the cycle, wishing it would go faster, just so she could train on a broomstick too.

 _If that's what they're even doing_ , the little voice murmured.

Images of hands stroking, lips joining, moans escaping all assaulted her mind and she held back a loud moan.

Finally, the Alarm Quill sounded, and Ginny hurried to the room with the dummy. It looked at her with those empty eyes, yet it seemed to judge her, as if it knew every dirty and lust-filled thought she'd had about the two wizards flying overhead.

Looking up, Ginny stared at Draco and Blaise flying in appreciation. Not only did they look both absolutely drool-worthy, but they also conveyed a sense of elegance while riding their brooms.

 _Had all of the Quidditch games she'd seen been this sinful_? Ginny thought in a daze as she stared at their legs tight around the broom handles.

"Glad you could join us. Care to choose a broomstick?" Blaise asked, smirking down at her.

She nodded mutely, her words caught in her throat. Her hand trembled slightly as she called a broomstick to her. She mounted it and was in the air in seconds, the familiar feeling temporarily pushing away her nerves.

Blaise narrowly dodged a hex from Draco, sending one back at him.

"How good are you at hexing while flying?" Draco asked, stopping beside her.

"I'm all right, I suppose," she replied modestly.

"Modesty, Ginevra? We saw how good you fly on it, we just want to know how good you are," Blaise said from the other side of her.

"So we'll ask again; how good are you at hexing while flying?" Draco asked. "The truth this time," he added, moving closer to her.

"I'm good," she said.

A slight grin on her lips was their only warning, and in seconds Ginny had hexed both Draco and Blaise before flying straight up into the air. She looked down at them, grinning broadly when she saw their legs shaking.

While the Jellylegs spell was somewhat harmless, on brooms it could be dangerous if the person wasn't a good flier and fell from their broom. Ginny knew enough of Draco and Blaise's flying experience to be confident that the spell would only be an irritation. She was right.

"How utterly unfair and sneaky of you, Ginevra," Draco muttered, stopping the Jellylegs spell easily.

"Should have been a Slytherin," Blaise murmured, undoing the spell on his legs too and sending his own hex straight up.

Ginny grinned and nudged her broom to get out of the way of the hex ball. She frowned as the ball began to split, and gasped slightly as she recognised the spell. It was a seeking spell, designed to follow its target until it hit. When it hit the intended person, it would allow the sender to continually hex them, and as such, outrunning the spell was almost more of a problem than the spell itself.

Moving faster now, Ginny dodged three of the splits. Two broke off and followed her as she flew around the ceiling quickly. Trying to outwit the seeking spell was difficult, but it could be done. She hovered in the air for a moment, letting the spells move towards her from opposite directions. Ginny dropped in the air as the spells got closer, but she was a second too late, and both of the splits hit her instead of each other.

With a triumphant grin, Blaise sent three spells at random parts of the room. All three spells immediately stopped and flew directly up to Ginny. Letting out a growl of frustration, Ginny put up a temporary shield and started to move her broom down towards Draco and Blaise.

They were both sending spells and hexes around the room, Blaise's joining Draco's so they were able to find her without him needing to aim.

Ginny looked at their combined spells curiously, even as they battered against her weakening shield. It took a lot of practice to combine spells, and both Draco and Blaise were doing it as if it was second nature to them.

 _Was it blue wrapped around green, or green around blue_? she wondered, watching as the next spell hit her shield. It was the last spell the shield could handle, and it dissolved into nothing mere seconds before the next hex veered towards her. Cursing, Ginny hurried to deflect the spell with her wand.

"You curse like that around your parents, Ginevra?" Blaise asked with a smirk as he flew up towards her.

"Yes, they say I'm adorable when I swear," she replied sarcastically, pointing her wand at him.

"I'll bet you are," Draco said, managing to look up and down her body despite the fact that she was still on a broomstick. " _Oh, fuck me_ ," he said throatily, obviously attempting to imitate her.

Ginny almost fell off her broom.

Blaise chuckled when he saw her expression, steadying her broom as she wavered. "Need a hand, Ginevra?" he said, his voice low as he looked at her through his long lashes. His innuendo was clearer than crystal.

 _They're just teasing me so they can hex me. That's all_ , she told herself firmly.

She swallowed forcibly and nodded at her own justification. Seconds later, Ginny had hexed Blaise and sent another one at Draco. She flew down towards the ground, pulling up when she was close enough to land.

 _How do you know they were teasing? What if they were serious? GET BACK IN THERE_! her inner voice yelled at her.

Ginny ignored the little voice, grabbed her clothes, and left the gym before Draco and Blaise could take the Bat Bogey Hexes off. The moment she was at a fireplace, she Flooed back to her apartment.

"Idiot, idiot, _idiot_ ," she muttered at herself, closing the grate behind her with a loud clang.

The little voice in her mind agreed with her wholeheartedly.

Collapsing on the lounge, Ginny tried not to think of anything - especially not two certain males-who-would-hereafter-remain-nameless - and tried to focus on the fact that she was right where she'd been at the beginning of the day.

 _She'd left the apartment to get out, and she'd ended up at work! And she'd even gone through_ The Quibbler's _front door_.

Remembering this fact, Ginny also remembered why she'd gone to the Cloffice in the first place: to pass the time before having to go back and talk to the receptionist at the front desk. She'd come straight back here instead.

"Gods' damn it all!" she yelled in frustration.

Sitting up, Ginny hurried to put her clothes and robes on before Flooing back to her office at _The Quibbler_.

...

"You were stupid to have done that to her, Draco," Blaise said.

"Your innuendo wasn't any better," Draco muttered.

Ginny stopped in her fireplace, shocked that she could hear Blaise and Draco. _She'd Flooed to the right place, hadn't she_? Checking the grate, Ginny saw that she was at her office at _The Quibbler_ , and contemplated just going back to the apartment. _Let the receptionist think what she wanted_.

It took Ginny a moment to realise that the fire was starting to lose the small amount of Floo powder she'd used, and it was getting rather warm.

Opening the grate and stepping out into her office, Ginny hurried to brush the soot off her robes, grateful it wasn't flames. She liked these robes.

The conversation between the two nameless males with their two too-lovely-voices stopped the moment she came out of the fireplace.

"What are you doing two in my office?" Ginny asked with a sigh.

"We came to apologise," Blaise said.

When Ginny was silent, Draco walked towards her. She stood perfectly still, unable to step backwards. Her mind seemed to get hazy with every step closer that he took, so Apparating was out of the question. They hadn't covered **this** type of distraction in class.

 _You don't want to Apparate anyway, do you_? the little voice in her mind asked, and if it had a face, Ginny was certain that it would have a smug smile.

Draco stopped a metre away from her. "We're sorry, Ginevra. We shouldn't have teased you like that, and we should have seen it was making you uncomfortable," he said, his voice soft and apologetic.

"We're very sorry," Blaise added, suddenly beside Draco, "will you forgive us?"

Ginny wasn't sure why they were apologising for _that_ or asking for her forgiveness. _The only uncomfortableness she'd experienced around them was due to hormones! But how could she explain that to them when they looked so very upset at their actions?_

 _Oh, please. You know exactly how you can explain this_ , that little voice said, it's every word dripping suggestiveness.

 _I think that voice is getting louder_ , Ginny thought to herself with a mutter.

"Ginevra?" Blaise prompted, making her realise that she hadn't answered them for a almost a minute. "Are you all right?"

"Do you want us to leave?" Draco asked, both of them taking a step back.

"No!" she said, a bit too forcefully.

They both stopped in surprise at her tone.

"No. Stay right there," Ginny said, her voice softer now.

Stepping so she was directly in front of Blaise, she stood up on her toes and kissed him, her hands clinging onto his shoulders. Her heart skipped when he kissed her back, his arms winding around her waist.

The haze in her mind cleared and Ginny suddenly realised that she was kissing _Blaise Zabini. And he was kissing her back! And by the gods' was he good at it_...

She pulled away, a smile on her lips. He kissed her once, and they both looked to Draco. He looked upset, and for a moment, Ginny wondered if she'd judged their relationship wrong.

"You kissed him first," Draco said, sounding disappointed.

"I was going alphabetically," Ginny replied, smirking.

"How is Zabini before Malfoy?"

"Blaise is before Draco," Blaise countered smugly.

Ginny shook her head briefly, standing in front of Draco and kissing him. Her arms around his neck, she kissed him eagerly, almost moaning as his tongue slid into her mouth. His hands moved inside her robe, but stayed on her hips, holding her close against his body.

A knock on the door startled them, and Ginny practically leapt away from Draco, as if she was sixteen again and making out with someone in the Common Room.

Draco chuckled at her reaction and pulled Blaise to him, kissing him. She sank onto her chair, watching them and trying to calm her emotions at the same time.

"Yes?" Ginny called, staring as they started to involve their tongues in their kiss.

"I was just wondering if you were all right, Miss Weasley," the receptionist said.

She opened the door, and by the time she looked in, Draco and Blaise were sitting on chairs across from Ginny's office. They both looked bored, instead of the heated expressions they'd had on their faces only moments ago.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise you had an interview," she said hurriedly, staring at Draco and Blaise.

"Quite all right. I've almost finished the interview with Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini," Ginny said, smiling at her.

"Well, I'll leave you to it then. Good bye," she said quickly, closing the door and going back to her desk.

Ginny waited until she couldn't hear her anymore, and then let out a relieved sigh. It was cut short when she realised that now she was going to have to actually write something about Draco and Blaise, or at least interview them for whoever was writing her articles to write about.

"Great, now I've got to actually interview you," Ginny muttered when she saw that they were watching her. "Any chance we can just Obliviate her?"

"I doubt that. I have the feeling she's gone and already announced that we're going to be headline news tomorrow morning," Blaise said with a smirk.

"We haven't been in the headlines for a while," Draco mused, an identical smirk on his face.

"Should we really give them something to write about?" Blaise asked, giving Ginny the most devilish grin she'd ever seen before.

"Like what?" she asked, trying not to let her voice hitch.

"Some artistically shot photographs of Draco and myself in one or two compromising situations?" Blaise asked.

"Only two?" Draco replied, smirking. "Well, I suppose we don't want our mothers to have strokes."

"No. Can't do that," Ginny said, trying to get the thought of them in _any_ compromising situation out of her head.

If she had to do an interview, she had to do it with a clear head. Which was going to be extremely difficult considering they were kissing again...

"Don't worry so much, Ginevra. We'll tell Pansy to have some ridiculous story about us written in _The Quibbler_ for tomorrow. She'll deal with it," Blaise said.

"Now, are you going to kiss us again, or do we have to _persuade_ you?" Draco asked, a glint in his eye that promised a very enticing persuasion indeed.

Grinning, Ginny stood up and nimbly avoided their hands as she went over to the door. "If I've got nothing to worry about, then I don't need to stay here any longer, do I?"

Draco and Blaise stared after her as she left the office with a broad grin. Her expression was neutral by the time she made it to the front desk. After a five minute chat with the receptionist, Ginny left _The Quibbler's_ office and Apparated home.

...

End of the tenth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

It started off like any other normal morning. Ginny woke up a few minutes before four, George's cheerful knock on the door a moment later. She showered and dressed in ten minutes, and ate breakfast with George at four thirty. At quarter to five, George left for whatever it was that he did for the Cloffice, and Ginny Flooed to her office at _The Quibbler_.

She called out her usual morning greeting to the receptionist, and signed documents that needed her authorisation. At four fifty-five on the dot, she Flooed to the Cloffice to meet the others in the cafeteria so they could all go to their first lesson together, Claudia included.

By five past five, Ginny knew that this day was going to be anything but normal.

Her first lesson was only described as 'seduction and emotional manipulation', which was the class that had so many rumours flying in the cafeteria. She had gone into the classroom not knowing what to expect. A mattress sat in the middle of the room, four chairs around it. They sat on the chairs silently, nervous tension filling the room. Even Claudia looked apprehensive.

At five o'clock, Pansy had entered the room with a smile and two other people beside her.

"Good morning. As you all know, this particular class is well renown in the cafeteria for being nothing short of an orgy," Pansy said, smirking. "While that in itself is not true, we do encourage a fair amount of open-mindedness. If you feel uncomfortable at **any** stage in the lesson, you are welcome to leave. You will not be marked as a fail, so do not worry about your assessment."

Ginny listened to Pansy's words with only half of her mind. The other half was too busy staring at the two people she had entered the room with: Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.

"As you have probably noticed by now, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini have come in with me. Just like them, you will all be tested on what you have learned during your time here. That means you get the opportunity to choose which class you think you have benefited from the most, and you will each teach a group of students. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini have chosen to teach you this class for today. Tomorrow, Ms. Allende will be teaching you, as your roster indicates. Listen well, and good luck," Pansy said, smiling at all of them.

She left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Right. First things first, you are to call us Draco and Blaise, none of this Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini," Blaise said, stepping towards them with a gentle smile.

Two chairs appeared, and he and Draco sat down, facing them. The mattress disappeared.

"You need to relax. To do that, breathing _is_ necessary," Draco added, smirking.

Morrigan let out a breath, fanning her red face briefly.

"This class does involve some of the things you've most likely heard about: male-male kissing, female-female kissing, eroticism, emotional manipulation. There are no orgies, but we'll let everyone else believe what they want to believe," Blaise said, winking.

"If you have any questions, do not be afraid to ask. We promise we won't bite," Draco said.

"No, biting comes later in the week," Blaise said with a chuckle.

"What do you mean by emotional manipulation?" Morrigan asked, her nerves easing slightly as she got her question out. "Do you mean spells or potions?"

"Neither, actually. By simply acting a certain way, a person's emotions can be affected. For example, licking your lips, looking at a person through lowered eyes, and blushing slightly, can make any man - or woman - realise that you're interested in them sexually, and they can either respond or become distanced," Blaise replied.

"I can make men jealous by flirting with their partners, and if you choose the right person, that jealousy can cause anything from a fist fight to a complete riot. Of course, if you choose the wrong person, it can end badly for the partner. _Some_ men like to hurt their partners in order to exert power and authority," Draco said.

"But how do you know if the person is like that?" Claudia asked, looking at them through lowered eyes.

Draco leant back on his chair and looked her up and down slowly. His eyebrow raised slightly, and a slight grin graced his lips.

Ginny had the sudden urge to rip Claudia's hair out. She clenched her hands tightly, and tried to calm herself down. Counting her breaths and letting them become even once more seemed like an extremely difficult task.

"Once you have been taught to see the emotional and physical signs, those types of people are fairly easy to spot," Blaise answered.

"Okay, stop now," Draco said to Claudia, sitting up straight once more. "You are good with a positive response, but what about a negative one?" he asked, continuing when she didn't reply, "Try the same thing with Blaise."

Claudia turned to look at Blaise, biting her lip as she looked him up and down. A light blush graced her cheeks, her eyelashes fluttering.

Blaise went still, crossing his arms over his chest. His expression was cold as he looked at Claudia with disgust.

Her face reddened further and she looked away, embarrassed.

"You just drew too much attention to yourself," Draco said, shaking his head. "If we were all at a Ministry function and anyone saw that exchange, they would immediately be suspicious of you. You need to save face if something goes wrong. Morrigan, why don't you give it a try?" he offered, smiling at her.

"Oh. O-okay," she said, nervous. Morrigan went red a few seconds later, mumbling something under her breath.

"Pardon?" Blaise asked.

"I... I don't know how to... _do_ this. Flirting. I can't," Morrigan said. "Give me plants and potions, and I can whip up the best love potion, but interacting with people? I just can't do it. I get too nervous, I can't talk..." her rambled trailed off as she realised they were all looking at her.

Without a word, Blaise stood up. He walked across to Morrigan, offering his hand to her. Surprised, she took it, and let out a small gasp when he lifted her to her feet easily. Blaise held her close, as if they were about to start dancing, one hand holding hers, while the other rested at her waist. He moved his mouth to her ear, whispering quietly.

They were all quiet, Ginny even holding her breath, trying to listen to what he was saying. It was in vain, but not one could look away from Blaise and Morrigan. His hand in hers moved slightly, his fingers caressing her gently. He continued to whisper, and Ginny was almost positive that his other hand was trailing up Morrigan's body gently.

"Now, try," Blaise said, his voice normal as he stepped away from Morrigan.

She blinked, her mind and body seeming to reel from everything he had just said and done. Morrigan registered his instruction, and turned to face Draco.

"No, Morrigan. Try with Jordan," Blaise said quietly, turning her to face him.

Morrigan nodded briefly, trying to remember everything- _anything_ \- Blaise had whispered to her.

She smiled at Jordan, her heart beating erratically when he smiled back. _Oh, gods'. She couldn't do this... She felt sick_.

 _No, she_ ** _could_** _do this. If she could make a love potion, she could do this. It was instinctive, every human could flirt. She was beautiful, wonderful, and she would do this_.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she hid her smile briefly, letting her hand stroke her neck. Jordan's eyes followed her hand, just like Blaise had promised. Playing with the neckline of her robe, Morrigan smiled again, blushing now. Her other hand gripped the side of her robe, showing her nerves, but she relaxed her grip slightly when he looked at her legs instead of her hand.

"Excellent, Morrigan. You can sit down now," Blaise's soft voice said in her ear.

She nodded, her nerves back in full force as her face went bright red. Sitting down, Morrigan couldn't bring herself to look at Jordan, and stared at her lap instead.

"Jordan, how do you feel about male-male kissing?" Draco asked suddenly.

Morrigan's head whipped up as she stared at Draco. Ginny looked at Blaise, wondering what he thought of this. He didn't seem to be fazed, but then, neither one of them had looked at her since they'd come into the room.

"If I'm in the field, I might have to do it, so I might as well learn," Jordan said, standing up.

"Such enthusiasm," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes.

Jordan didn't answer.

"Right then. Flirt with me. Make me want to kiss you," Draco said, smirking at Jordan.

Jordan looked Draco up and down, licking his lips slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, grinning as he walked towards Draco.

Draco watched, standing when Jordan was close enough. He pulled him to his body, kissing him intently, a hand on his waist with the other in Jordan's hair.

"Good kisser. But you need to work on your walk," Draco said as he pulled away.

"My walk?" Jordan asked, frowning slightly.

 _At least he didn't wipe his mouth on the back of his sleeve, like Draco's former partner in this class had done last week. That was just an insult_!

"Ginevra, stand up, please." Blaise said.

She frowned slightly, wondering why she was being called on. She stood up anyway, waiting.

"Walk to me like you want to kiss me," Blaise instructed, smirking.

Ginny immediately realised that she couldn't do this as herself. If she did this as herself, she would all but run at him, wrap herself around him and kiss him until she couldn't breathe. While she doubted that would be a problem if it was just them, the thought of doing that in front of her friends, and Claudia, was a problem.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her own emotions away. This was a game of pretend, like she had played when she was younger. She was no longer Ginny, Ginevra, or even a Weasley. She was nothing more than a woman attracted to a man.

 _She was a shy woman_ , she corrected herself, and blushed slightly, controlling her emotions enough so she didn't go beet-red.

"If you don't want to do it, I will," Claudia said, thinking that she was nervous.

She barely refrained from glaring at her. "No, thank you," she said, trying to keep her tone pleasant.

She blushed again, looking at Blaise shyly. Smiling, she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, watching for his reaction. When she saw that it was positive, she began to move towards him. She walked softly, portraying a sense of innocence as she continued to watch Blaise for his reaction. When she reached him, she raised herself slightly so she could reach his mouth. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for her. She kissed him, a hand on his shoulder as she held herself up. She slipped her tongue out gently, licking his lips as his hands held her waist. Pulling away, Ginny stood on her feet properly. Blaise's hands let go of her as he realised where they were.

"You did something at the beginning, didn't you, Ginevra?" Draco asked, watching her.

She nodded in response, licking her lips briefly. She let herself filter back into her own mind, and Ginny looked to the other three sitting down.

"What did she do? I didn't see anything," Morrigan said, frowning slightly.

Draco nodded at Ginny to answer.

"I became someone else," she said with a shrug. "I pretended I was someone else, someone who was shy and attracted to Blaise; someone who wanted to kiss him," Ginny said.

"Sometimes, two people may want you at the same time. Ginevra, do the same thing you just did. Walk to us, and kiss both of us," Draco said, standing beside Blaise.

Claudia looked put out that they hadn't asked her. Jordan and Morrigan were just watching her, waiting to see what she would do.

Ginny walked back to her seat, wondering who to become this time. Her eyes landed on Claudia for a moment, who was still watching Draco and Blaise. In the blink of an eye, Ginny lost herself. She was a woman like Claudia. She was confident, sexy, and by the gods' she knew it. She could have any man she wanted, or woman if she felt like it, and today, she wanted the two men standing across the room.

She looked them up and down with a seductive glint in her eye. A smirk settled on her lips and she moved across the floor to them, her hips swaying and drawing their attention easily. She didn't even give them a second to appreciate her body before she kissed Draco hungrily, biting his lip and sucking it briefly. Blaise moved slightly beside them, and with another predatory smirk, she moved away from Draco. Grabbing Blaise's robes, she pulled him to her, her lips on his instantly, her tongue running across his lips not even a heartbeat later.

She ran a hand down Draco's body as she continued to kiss Blaise, tugging his robes so Draco moved closer to them. Her leg wrapped around Draco's waist as she kissed him once more, manoeuvring so Blaise was pressed up behind her. She raised her hand so she could hold Blaise to her, his lips on her neck.

A cough sounded behind them, and Ginny came to herself quickly, stopping her kiss. She looked at Draco, his face millimetres from her own, his breath heavy and his eyes dark. The feel of Blaise's lips lingered on her neck. Ginny had no doubt that she was as unsettled as both of them.

The cough sounded again, and she unwrapped herself from Draco's waist, letting go of Blaise as well. Ginny went red when she saw Morrigan's slack-jawed expression. Jordan was just staring at them, and even Claudia was blushing at what she'd witnessed.

"I am almost positive I said that orgies _weren't_ a part of this class," Pansy said, smirking at them from the doorway.

"We were demonstrating how two people can be seduced at the same time with a walk," Draco replied smoothly.

"I didn't see anyone walking," Pansy said, her eyebrow raised slightly.

"You're lucky you didn't, you wouldn't have been able to resist Ginevra," Blaise said, grinning.

"Who were you that time, Ginevra?" Claudia asked, seeming oblivious to the conversation.

Ginny was surprised that she even had to ask. "You. I've seen you walk like that before," she replied, shrugging at Claudia's shocked expression.

"Believe me, I've _never_ walked like **that** before," she replied, shaking her head.

"All right, everyone. It's time for your next class. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini, come to my office when you're done here," Pansy said, interrupting them.

They nodded in response, watching as Pansy left the room. Draco and Blaise stood at the door, thanking the students as they left. Ginny was last out the door, and Blaise shook her hand, slipping a note into her palm. She put the note in her pocket and hurried to catch up to the others further up the corridor.

"I need to go to the bathroom to cool down," Ginny said when she reached them, fanning her face slightly with a grin.

"I'm not surprised. I haven't seen something like that outside of romance novels," Morrigan said, grinning broadly.

"You weren't so bad yourself, Miss I-Can't-Flirt," Ginny replied, smirking.

"Do you mind if I come with you?" Claudia asked Ginny. "I won't do anything, I promise," she added when Morrigan glared at her.

"It's fine, Claudia. I trust you," Ginny said, heading to the bathroom.

Claudia gave Morrigan a slight nod and followed Ginny. "You really thought of yourself as me?" Claudia asked when they were alone.

"Yes," Ginny said, splashing her face with water. "You know what you want and who you want, and nothing will stand in your way from getting them. Not even the person you want," she said, grinning at her.

Claudia nodded briefly, not looking convinced. "How did you do that walk though? I swear I've never done all of that before," she said, looking her up and down.

"You're confident, Claudia. You just need to use your confidence more," Ginny said, shrugging. "Put it in every step, every smile, every little thing you do."

"What if I've done that already? What if it didn't work?" Claudia muttered, looking at her nails.

"You can't do it on someone who's head over heels love with someone else," Ginny said, thinking of Jordan and Morrigan. "Why do you think Blaise asked Morrigan to flirt with Jordan instead of himself or Draco?"

"I'd hoped it was a crush on both their parts," she said, sighing.

"Then you haven't been watching them enough," she replied, shaking her head. "Come on, we've got to get to class."

Claudia nodded and straightened up, walking out of the bathroom confidently. Ginny was a second behind her. _She didn't understand how Claudia couldn't see herself as others did_.

"I'm sorry," Claudia said a moment later.

"What? What for?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"For using an Unforgivable on you. I was jealous," she replied.

"I won't say it was all right, because it wasn't," Ginny said, "but thank you for your apology."

Claudia nodded, and they walked into their classroom silently. Morrigan looked over at Ginny immediately, checking her eyes and her movements.

"I'm fine," she said to Morrigan quietly, smiling.

The light in the room dimmed without warning, and Ginny could barely make out Morrigan's form beside her. Suddenly, a spell flowed through the room. Ginny didn't have time to react, let alone move, before the sleeping spell took affect and she slumped in her seat.

...

Ginny couldn't see, her hearing was limited, and her hands were tied behind her back. She tried to struggle out of the binds, but the spell was too strong. Her wand was gone, probably held just out of her reach to taunt her.

"No use struggling, dear. Continue to struggle, and you'll only make it worse," her captor said, the woman's voice loud enough for her to hear. "Drink this," she said, and a drink was shoved under her nose.

Ginny only just managed to smell it before her nose was blocked. There was only a faint odour, and though it did seem familiar, she couldn't place it.

The goblet was pressed against her lips, some of the liquid pouring in her mouth. Ginny spat it back out immediately, the acidic and awful taste jogging her memory.

"Something wrong, dear?" her captor asked, a curious tone to her voice. "What is it?"

"Castor oil plant," Ginny said, hoping she hadn't swallowed any.

"Very good."

Finally, the blindfold was taken off, the spell removed from her ears, and her hands were untied. Her wand was right by her feet.

"Here's some chocolate. It'll negate anything you swallowed, and take away the taste," a man said, giving her a large piece.

Ginny sniffed it suspiciously before deeming it safe and biting a square off.

The man and woman who were teaching this class were the same who had been at her interview, but Ginny still didn't know their names. Somehow, she doubted they would tell her.

She walked over to the bench that was against the wall and sat down, watching as Claudia, Morrigan and Jordan were given their own tests.

The moment they'd all woken up, they had been taught about four different poisonous plants. Their teachers had encouraged them to smell, touch, taste (in small portions and with chocolate handy) and recognise the plants on sight. Then they had set them all up in magicked cubicles, taken away one or more of their senses and made them identify the plant.

Ginny wasn't surprised when Morrigan guessed all four plants on her first try. She herself had only managed to guess two of the plants on her first try, one being the castor oil plant.

She would have to practice this more if she was to survive whatever job this training qualified her for.

...

"I'm going straight to the cafeteria. I need to get this taste out of my mouth," Jordan muttered, his nose screwed up in distaste.

"Chocolate didn't help much, did it?" Morrigan said, shaking her head.

"I'm going to the gym; I'll see you later," Ginny said.

"See you later, Ginevra," Claudia said, continuing up to the cafeteria.

"Will someone tell me who swapped personalities with Claudia?" Morrigan muttered. "First she tries to hex you, then she uses an Unforgivable on you, and now she's acting all friendly?!"

"She was insecure," Ginny said, shrugging.

"Could have fooled me," Morrigan said, shaking her head.

"Have fun at the gym; we'll see you later Ginny," Jordan said, grinning as he took Morrigan's hand and headed up to the cafeteria.

Even from behind, Ginny could tell that Morrigan had gone bright red and was trying not to stumble over her words or feet.

Shaking her head, Ginny went further down the corridor towards the gym. She stopped when she realised that she was finally alone. Taking Blaise's note out of her pocket, she read the one sentence with a slight frown.

 _Please meet us for lunch_.

Considering they were in Training Centre Two, Ginny had no idea where they wanted her to meet them. Suddenly, the small note screwed itself up and began to bounce on the floor. It didn't move anywhere, so Ginny had to presume that the note itself was the clue. She'd only ever seen one place that used bouncing parchments. _The Quibbler_.

Grabbing the ball of parchment, Ginny headed to the nearest fireplace and Flooed to her office at _The Quibbler_ , hoping she was right.

...

Opening the grate, Ginny walked out of the fireplace calmly. She hadn't heard their voices but that didn't mean they weren't inside already and waiting.

She was more than relieved when she saw Draco and Blaise sitting down, waiting for her. Dropping the small ball of parchment into the fire, she heard it make a small pop as the spell on it disappeared.

The noise made the two men turn around to see her standing there.

"Hello, Ginevra," Blaise said, smiling at her.

Draco didn't say anything. He looked her up and down, a smirk on his face.

Ginny looked at Draco and Blaise for a moment, wondering everything she hadn't wanted to ask herself earlier. _Why had they had chosen the seduction class to teach? Had they wanted to see her again? Had they wanted to kiss her? Or were they trying to tell her something? That they had used those techniques on her to see if they would work? That she was nothing but a test? She would show them that she was more than that_!

Walking to Draco, she pulled him up to her and kissed him forcefully, her hands gripping his robes tightly. He seemed surprised by her intensity, but he moved to hold her body against his. Before he could hold on to her properly, Ginny moved away with a smirk, keeping her eyes on him as she kissed Blaise with equal fervour.

"Hello," she breathed, stepping back.

"I was wondering if you would kiss us or hit us after this morning," Blaise murmured, licking his lips.

"I wanted to do both," Ginny admitted, glaring at them. "Why **_that_** class? Were you trying to make me jealous or something?"

Draco shook his head. "We were the jealous ones, Ginevra. If we hadn't chosen that class, then some other idiot from our group would have."

"We couldn't stand the thought of someone else's hands on you," Blaise said, stepping towards her and caressing her face.

"Couldn't stand the thought of someone else kissing you," Draco added, moving so he was behind her, his lips on her neck.

"Oh," was all Ginny could manage to say.

They kissed her, Blaise's mouth on hers, Draco kissing her neck. She clung to them, kissing Blaise back eagerly, holding Draco's waist as his hands made their way up her body. Suddenly, they both stepped back away from her, and Ginny fought to stay upright.

"Walk to us. Kiss us. Don't pretend you're someone else this time," Draco said, his breathing heavy.

Ginny didn't know if she could make it the few metres to their bodies without falling over. She looked them both up and down, licking her lips as she thought of everything she wanted to do to those delicious bodies. She looked at their faces, Draco's eyes were dark with lust and Blaise was watching her intensely. Keeping her eyes locked on theirs, she moved towards them. Her body swayed, and she moved as if she was being pulled by them and would die if she didn't get to taste of them right then and there.

She kissed Blaise, her body pressed up against his. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her against him. Ginny wrapped an arm around his neck, her fingers in his hair.

Draco was kissing her neck, moving up to her ear. He bit the lobe gently and she gasped into Blaise's mouth. Draco's lips formed into a grin, and he kissed his way across her cheek to steal her lips from Blaise.

Ginny wasn't sure how, but suddenly she was kissing Draco; even with her eyes shut and her arms still around Blaise, she knew that Draco's lips were on hers. His tongue traced her lips, and she moaned as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

They stopped for a moment, all breathing heavily.

Ginny's stomach grumbled loudly and she blushed in embarrassment. _Here she was in the arms of two gorgeous men, and all her stomach could think about was food_.

Draco and Blaise chuckled, gently unwrapping her and themselves from each others' body.

"Lucky for us, we brought food," Blaise said, smirking.

Draco pulled a small cube from his pocket, and as it grew larger, Ginny saw that it was a bag. She sat behind her desk as they unpacked the three plates of food, watching them as they worked together. _They'd done this sort of thing before_ , Ginny realised. She supposed it made sense, they would have had to do similar things if they'd gone around the country together.

"Where did you go after the war?" Ginny asked once they'd sat down.

Neither Draco nor Blaise seemed surprised by her question, but they were silent for a moment. Draco handed her a small plate and Blaise took the wrappings off the three serving plates to reveal an assortment of sandwiches, scones, and fruit.

"I don't remember the first two months very well," Draco said, his voice quiet as they began to eat. "I was in shock, I think. It was all sort of hazy, and I only remember being Side Apparated every week or so. There was a beach at one point."

"I was in just as much shock as you," Blaise said. "We weren't planning on leaving after the war. One morning, before our names were cleared, the _Prophet_ sent reporters to my house to try and get a confession of my Death Eater ways, and I snapped. I didn't want any of the attention they were giving me, I didn't want my pictures plastered in the paper, and I just wanted to be left alone. The reporters didn't seem to understand that. Draco had gone through the same thing, and we decided to leave."

"We waited long enough after the war for our names to be cleared, and then Apparated one morning. I think we went to France first, or was it Italy?" Draco asked, looking at Blaise as he bit into his sandwich.

"We went to France first," he said with a nod. "Decided to visit your family, and then mine."

"So you really are Italian?" Ginny asked, surprised.

"My mother is Italian. My father was black. I think," Blaise said, frowning briefly. "Maybe that was one of my step fathers?" he mused.

"Your mother never told you?"

"She doesn't like to talk about her husbands. She says that it's too painful for her, but I know she just doesn't want me to have something to blackmail her with," Blaise said with a smirk.

"If anyone else were saying this, your wand would be on their neck in a second," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes at him.

"Of course. Only **_I'm_** allowed to tease my mother. Like it's any different with you and Narcissa," Blaise taunted.

"I never said it was. Besides, there is nothing to tease her about. My mother is a saint," Draco replied. "She just married the devil, thinking he was an angel."

Ginny watched their banter in amusement, wondering at Draco's angry tone about his father, and Blaise's indifferent one to his.

They continued to talk and eat, Ginny listening as they told her more about their holiday around the country.

"... Then, in Russia, Draco decided to get into a drinking contest," Blaise said, chuckling already.

"It wasn't in Russia, was it? I thought that was Norway?" 

"You were so drunk that someone could have told you that you were in the Otherworld and you would have believed them," Blaise said, rolling his eyes as he turned back to Ginny once more. "It was in Russia, and Draco got so drunk after this drinking contest that he challenged a wizard to duel."

"Oh, gods'. **Now** I remember. Stop. No more of this," Draco groaned, holding his head in his hands.

"You have to tell me now," Ginny said to Blaise, laughing when Draco groaned again.

Blaise chuckled and continued, "He challenged him to a duel, and the guy refused because Draco was drunk. So Draco, who was itching for a fight, goes to punch the guy just so he'll duel him. He misses, of course, and he ends up on the floor, his arse in the air and all of his dignity out the window. Then he starts humming a song we'd heard a few weeks ago in that Muggle store. Some superhero thing, wasn't it?"

" _Superman_ ," Draco said, his voice muffled from behind his hands.

"That's it... So he's on the floor, still drunk, and humming the song for _Superman_! Everyone's practically pissing themselves laughing by this time, and then Draco gets up, points his wand up at the ceiling and tries to fly around the bar. He runs one lap and passes out on top of some poor lady. He had no idea why people were coming up to him the next day and calling him _Superhero_!"

Ginny's eyes watered as she clutched her stomach, peals of laughter coming from her body. Draco glared at Blaise as he started laughing too.

"You're not getting sex for the rest of the week," Draco grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

An Alarm Quill sounded in the midst of their laughter, and Ginny gradually stopped laughing. She turned the alarm off and fanned her face with the feather to calm down.

"Oh. Poor Draco. How long was it before you had vodka again?" she asked.

"He hasn't had it since," Blaise replied, grinning at him.

"Make that no sex for the rest of the month," Draco muttered, glaring again.

"Like you can really say no to me," Blaise said, kissing him.

Ginny stared as their kiss got more heated, and if it wasn't for the quill she was gripping tightly in her hand, she might have forgotten that they needed to get back to the Cloffice.

"We've got five minutes to get back," she said, interrupting them reluctantly.

"We can do a lot in five minutes," Draco said.

"I'd hoped you'd last longer than five minutes," Ginny said, smirking as she headed to the fireplace.

"Who said anything about sex? I was going to distract you for five minutes so you'd forget about needing to go anywhere," Draco replied, coming up behind her.

A discreet handful of Floo powder in her hand, Ginny turned and smiled at Draco.

"How were you planning on distracting me?" she asked sweetly.

Draco smirked and leaned forward to kiss her. Ginny took a step back into the flames, the Floo powder turning them green a moment before her robes caught fire.

" _The Cloffice_ ," she said, disappearing with a smirk.

Blaise's laughter followed her.

...

A second after Ginny and the others had entered the classroom and sat down on the four chairs, it went completely dark.

"Not again," Claudia muttered.

Although Ginny didn't think it was wise to talk out loud, she did have to agree with her. _Why were all of these teachers putting them in the dark all of a sudden?_

"I want complete silence."

The voice came from behind them, and they all tried to turn in their seats to look at whoever was talking. A spell flowed around the four chairs, and they were all forced to sit up straight and face forward.

"Forget everything you've learned about fighting."

Ginny frowned; she recognised that voice. Well, it sounded familiar, the same way a voice from a childhood dream did. She tried to place the voice with a face.

"Forget everything you think you know about fighting. Forget what you think you know about war. Anything you've learnt up until this point is useless."

The lights came on, a gentle glow filling the room. The person walked in front of them, and sat down as a chair materialised. Ginny's eyes widened as she saw Dennis Creevey sitting there.

She hadn't seen him since her sixth year, and Ginny frowned, trying to remember if she had even seen Dennis at his brother's funeral. Colin had died in the Forbidden Forest by a herd of rampant centaurs, when he was trying to fight in the Final Battle. _Was it ironic then, that his brother was working for a department front to protect the creatures_?

As she studied him properly, Ginny tried to recognise anything from the boy she had met at Hogwarts. He looked completely different from the mousy-haired excited boy who'd fallen into the lake and been rescued by the Giant Squid. He still had his mousy-brown hair, but it was shorn short and in patches, as if he had taken clippers to his head in the dark. The light wavered in the room, obscuring his face in places. As she looked at him closely, Ginny could see that parts of his face had crescent-shaped marks on them. A lot like ... hooves.

 _What on earth had happened to him after Hogwarts_?!

Dennis looked directly at her, as if he was challenging her to keep looking at him. There was no emotion in his eyes, no hate, no humour, no sadness. His eyes were completely empty and void of any emotion whatsoever. Ginny looked away first.

"What you have been taught in the last month about fighting is **not** fighting. You have been learning self defence. But even if you can defend yourself and stay alive, it means absolutely nothing if you can't fight back," he said.

A moment later, the spell disappeared from around them.

"Stand up," Dennis said.

They hurried to stand, the seats disappearing.

"I want to see you fight. No defending yourselves. Fight only," he said, watching all of them.

Turning away from Dennis' gaze, Ginny didn't hesitate. She threw a punch at Jordan. Her fist connected with his jaw. It stung fiercely, but she ignored the pain and continued to fight. She kicked, punched, slapped, twisted; did everything to fight and defeat him.

Jordan took a few minutes to get over the surprise of being punched out of nowhere, and began to fight back. He took the punches she threw at him, returning his own. He didn't defend himself, taking every kick and hit; for every one he received, he returned it.

Ginny clenched her fist tightly, her eyes widening slightly as she felt her wand in her sleeve. _She'd forgotten it again, gods' damn it_! Her surprise resulted in a fist to her eye, but Ginny didn't mind so much. She dropped to a crouch, kicking Jordan's feet out from under him, her wand in her hand a second later. She hexed him while he was on the ground, a Full Body Bind keeping him there.

She looked to Dennis, who nodded briefly, his eyes flicking to Claudia and Morrigan.

Ginny waited a moment, wondering if he meant for her to join the fight, or simply watch. Her nerves were tensed, adrenaline was pumping through her, and Ginny wasn't sure if she _could_ just stand back and watch. A moment later, she was in the fight, hexing Claudia and kicking at Morrigan.

Dennis watched as the three women fought. There had been a lot of screaming from the blonde one, but when she realised she wasn't getting any pity from him, she'd stopped. He was thankful for that, his ears were beginning to get sore. The brunette was starting to fight back with her wand, and he moved to the side as a misfired spell came his way.

Ginny Weasley was in the group. He wasn't overly surprised, but he wondered why it had taken George so many years to recommend her for the job. Looking down at the man on the ground, Dennis undid the spell and nodded at the fight.

Jordan sat up, wiped his bleeding nose on the back of his sleeve and headed back into the fight.

They didn't stop fighting until the class ended. Dennis just nodded at each of them as they left the classroom, silent as he watched them leave.

...

"I swear that my _bruises_ are getting bruises," Jordan muttered, looking at a bruise on his arm.

"I don't think I'll be able to move for the rest of the week," Claudia said, rubbing her tender shoulder.

"I just hope they didn't shut the fireplaces yet. I'm starving," Morrigan said.

They'd gone straight to the hospital ward after class to get their black eyes healed, noses fixed and straightened, and other various cuts and scrapes healed.

"Well, I'm sure there's food in the cafeteria if we are locked in," Ginny said, grinning at her.

The fireplace was still open, but the fire was starting to die down. Jordan left last, refusing to go before the witches. They thanked him as they each Flooed to their respective workplaces to go home for the night.

...

Later that night, Ginny sat in the lounge room, thinking over her lessons that day. Her mind kept wandering back to Dennis, the hoof marks on his face, and the absolute emptiness she'd seen in his eyes.

"What are you thinking about, Gin?" George asked, seeing the serious and sombre look on her face.

It took Ginny a moment to realise that he was talking to her and she looked up at her brother and away from the fireplace. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"What're you thinking about?" George repeated.

She sighed, looking back to the flames once more. "What happened to Dennis Creevey?"

With that one question, George understood her sombre mood. He echoed her sigh and sat on the armchair across from her. They didn't look at each other as George began to talk; there was no need.

"It was year of the Final Battle. Colin and Dennis had stayed with their parents for most of the year, and they were happy that way. They worried about everyone, of course, as most Muggle-borns did about their friends. Dennis caught Colin trying to sneak out of the house one night, and convinced his brother to take him with him. They made their way to Hogwarts in time for the Final Battle, when Neville summoned the DA through the coins," George said.

She remembered that. She could picture the fierce determination on both of the Creevey brothers' faces. She remembered everyone from that day, standing there, waiting to fight for their lives. _Waiting to lose their lives, in some cases_ , she thought as Fred's image floated in her mind.

"The Creevey brothers decided that the Forbidden Forest would be a good vantage point, as the Death Eaters wouldn't look for them there. They snuck out when McGonagall forbade them from the fight, and hid in the undergrowth in the forest to wait.

"They fought hard, taking out at least four Death Eaters from their hiding spot. Most of us didn't even know they were there, but we didn't have time to wonder why a Death Eater was suddenly dead without an apparent cause. There were too many of them to think for long...

"The centaurs didn't appreciate humans in their forest and began killing whoever came inside. Voldemort lost more Death Eaters that way, but the centaurs weren't able to kill Him. They came upon the Creevey brothers eventually. They killed Colin in front of Dennis, captured Dennis and took off into the forest. None of us knew where they were; we thought that they were still in the castle. Then Oliver and Neville found Colin's body," George's voice cracked and he stopped for a moment.

"Dennis was held by the centaurs for three weeks. They thought he'd been part of Voldemort's inner circle, and had decided to punish him since they couldn't get to Voldemort himself. Dennis managed to escape them and get back to Hogwarts. No one was there, the ground was stained with blood of the fallen, and it seemed deserted. He had no idea if we'd won, if Voldemort had won, or if everyone had died and he was the only person left in the world.

"He made his way to Hogsmeade and collapsed on _the_ _Hog's Head_ front step. Aberforth found him there, took him in, and healed him the best he could. Dennis refused to go to St. Mungo's and didn't want anyone from Hogwarts contacted. He kept saying that he was better off thought dead. Aberforth, not being one to follow other people's rules, got in touch with Neville and explained what had happened."

"Why Neville?" Ginny asked, her voice quiet.

"Neville was the one who had convinced Aberforth to use the portraits between _the Hog's Head_ and Hogwarts; he trusted that Neville would be able to take care of Dennis. By that time, Potter was already too caught up in his own victory to notice anyone else," George muttered. "Neville got Dennis back on his feet, and gave him a reason to continue living. He was the one who recommended him for the Cloffice," he added.

"Neville's part of the Cloffice?" she asked, surprised. "I thought he was teaching Herbology at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, he's part of Cloffice, and yes, he's also teaching at Hogwarts. Neville can explain it all when you see him next, okay?" George asked with a sigh, standing and kissing her forehead. "Get some rest now, Gin."

"You too, dearest brother," she murmured, returning her gaze to the fireplace.

Not even seeing the article she'd supposedly written about Draco and Blaise was enough to help her sleep. The article hadn't quite said that they were sleeping together, but did hint towards the suggestion that they were exclusive with each other. _Neither Mr. Malfoy nor Mr. Zabini could be reached for a comment_. As if they could tell that she was unhappy, their photograph-selves were snogging each other. Ginny smiled briefly, but it didn't reach her eyes. Turning the paper over, she sighed and put the fire out to go to bed.

She didn't fall asleep for a long time.

...

End of the eleventh chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

"Ginevra Weasley?"

 

Hearing her name, Ginny turned around quickly, barely dodging Jordan's fist. Lin, the Cloffice's receptionist, had popped her head through the slightly ajar door.

 

"You have a firecall," Lin informed her.

 

"Can you tell George to call back?" Ginevra asked, frowning.

 

"The firecall is from Mr. Ronald Weasley; he is currently on hold at your office," Lin replied. "You have two minutes."

 

Ginny didn't pale and run around like she might have only a month ago. Ron was at the Ministry, and he _hated_ using the firecall there, so the fact he was doing so either meant he didn't want their parents to hear what he was going to say, or he'd been mulling over what he was going to yell at her all morning. She suspected it would be both.

 

Taking a deep breath, Ginny gathered her things, pulling her robe on as she left the classroom. Doing various spells to clean her sweaty body and tidy her hair, Ginny tried not to think about what Ron was going to be like. He'd obviously read her article about Draco and Blaise.

 

Heading to the closest fireplace, she Flooed to her office at _The Quibbler_. The green flames died as she stepped out, orange ones replacing them. When they turned red, the hold on Ron's firecall would disappear, and then the true fun would begin.

 

The orange flames started to turn darker.

 

Getting her wand out, Ginny erected a silencing barrier around the office so others outside wouldn't be disturbed, and sat on her chair. She presumed it would be a good idea to at least look busy; if she was lucky, she might even be able to cut Ron off and claim she had too much work to do.

 

The flames turned red, bursting in a flash of colour. Mere seconds later, Ron's face appeared in the fireplace. Ginny refrained from rubbing her eyes to check she was seeing things right; Ron's face was as red as the flames had been.

 

"Hello, Ron, what can I do for..." she began to ask, keeping her tone pleasant.

 

Ron didn't give her a chance to finish. "DON'T ACT THAT WAY WITH ME, GINEVRA WEASLEY! ARE YOU OFF YOUR ROCKER?! WHAT ON EARTH POSSESSED YOU TO WRITE THAT SORT OF ARTICLE ABOUT **THEM**? YOU ARE POSSESSED, AREN'T YOU? HOW DARE YOU GET POSSESSED AND WRITE ABOUT THEM! IT'S _MALFOY_ AND _ZABINI_ FOR THE GODS' SAKES! ARE YOU INSANE AS WELL? YOU'RE LUCKY MUM HASN'T SEEN IT! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY CALLS YOU'RE GOING TO GET FROM THEIR LAWYERS?"

 

Ginny sat back on her chair, listening to her brother's rant with amusement. He flew from one topic to another, never staying on the same train of thought for longer than three sentences. He finally lost his steam and stopped yelling, his chest heaving as he tried to get oxygen back into his body.

 

"What?" he asked with a hoarse voice, seeing the look on his sister's face.

 

"I'm just wondering how Hermione puts up with your ranting. She must have ears of steel."

 

"That's all you've got to say for yourself?" Ron asked in disbelief, his voice rising slightly.

 

Ginny sighed heavily and stood up. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb, and looked at her brother again.

 

"I'm curious, Ron... Did you do any of this screaming when you read in the _Prophet_ that Harry dumped me? You never asked me about it, and I'm positive that he hasn't told you he cheated on me with Cho Chang. But my feelings about that aren't as important as some stupid words about Malfoy and Zabini, are they?"

 

Ron spluttered something unintelligible.

 

"As you can see, I'm at work," she said, indicating to the pile of parchments on her desk, "and I'm busy. Unless you can talk to me like a civil human being, don't call me here again," Ginny said, shutting the grate before he could respond or yell again.

 

She waited at her desk for five minutes, giving her brother enough time to cool down and call back if he wanted. The flames stayed their proper colour, so Ginny Flooed back to the Cloffice to finish her training for the day.

 

...

 

"Hello, dearest," George said, poking his head out of the kitchen when Ginny stepped out of the fireplace that evening. "You've got some letters. Tell me if you need to send anything, I've got to send off some things for _Wheezes_ too," he added, going back into the kitchen.

 

"Lovely to see you too, brother dearest. I had a somewhat crap day thanks to our brother yelling at me, thank you so much for asking," Ginny muttered as she took the letters from the stand.

 

"What did he say?" George asked, hearing her with his good ear.

 

"He yelled about my insanity, me being possessed, and a whole range of things centred on the fact that I wrote an article about Malfoy and Zabini. Even though I really didn't," Ginny replied, walking into the kitchen.

 

"You being _possessed_? Does the boy have an ounce of sensitivity?" George asked, shaking his head.

 

"Of course not. It's Ron," she muttered, opening the first envelope.

 

"Who's the letter from?" he asked as he served dinner.

 

"Neville. He wants to have lunch this Saturday. Dennis will be there," she replied, taking her plate to the table.

 

George followed her, sitting down and taking the offered letter. He read it quickly - it was short but pleasant - and looked at Ginny with a curious look.

 

"You don't want to go because Dennis will be there?" he asked.

 

"No, nothing like that. I'm just surprised that Dennis would _want_ to be there while I am," Ginny replied.

 

"Why wouldn't he? It's his day off, and he can go out with his partner if he wants," George said.

 

"Partner? Not boyfriend?" she asked, attempting a small grin.

 

George shook his head. "There is no way I'd be calling Dennis and Neville _boyfriends_. They're too intense for that."

 

Ginny's grin faded and she frowned. George ignored her look and started eating. She followed his lead and started eating as well, not wanting her dinner to get cold.

 

"Who's the second one from, Gin?" George asked as he was nearing the end of his food.

 

Ginny looked at the envelope beside her plate with a slight frown. She knew from the moment she'd held the heavy envelope in her hand that there were only two people who had enough money to spend on ridiculously expensive envelopes. She just wondered why Draco or Blaise were owling her at home.

 

"I don't know yet, I haven't opened it," she replied, mixing her lie with a truth.

 

"I bet it's important, a fancy envelope like that," George said, making it clear that he knew exactly who had sent it.

 

"I'll check after I've finished," Ginny said, twirling the spaghetti strands onto her fork.

 

George finished his spaghetti in a few minutes and sat back to watch Ginny, instead of taking his plate to the kitchen like he usually did.

 

"Stop watching me, would you? You're making me too nervous to eat," she muttered, glaring at him half-heartedly.

 

"If that's the case, I'll take your plate to the kitchen, and we can look at this fancy letter you've got a whole lot quicker," George replied, standing to do as he said.

 

Ginny barely managed to have another mouthful before he cleared the plate off the table. The pasta didn't settle well in her stomach, and it felt like she'd swallowed a brick, even more so when she looked at that envelope.

 

George wasted no time in badgering her about the envelope the moment he returned with a pot of tea. If only to shut him up, Ginny forced herself to open the envelope in front of him.

 

" _Dear Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley. You are cordially invited to the Malfoy Annual Ball, to be held in three months' time on the 31st of October._

 

 _"As a result of your recent article in_ The Quibbler _, Mr. Blaise Zabini has asked for you to accompany him on this evening. Please send your R.S.V.P. to Mr. Zabini via owl no later than October 1st._

 

 _"Your presence at this event is compulsory. We look forward to seeing you there_."

 

Ginny finished reading the invitation, and looked up at George. He was smiling broadly, and looked mightily pleased with himself.

 

"This is for Cloffice, isn't it?" Ginny asked, shaking her head.

 

"Can't say. But I will say this: people in their second month usually don't get to choose their date," George said, grinning.

 

Ginny stilled briefly, enough colour in her cheeks to show exactly how embarrassed she was. _She had better control than this, damn it_! She glared at George and left to her room without another word.

 

...

 

"There you are, Ginevra. You're late," Neville admonished, grinning at her.

 

"I'm two minutes early, actually. Your pocket watch is probably wrong," Ginny replied, kissing his cheek as he stood to greet her.

 

"Probably, the Mandrakes were playing with it again. Ginevra, you remember Dennis," he introduced Dennis as he sat down, taking his hand in his own.

 

"Of course. I haven't seen you in years, how have you been?" Ginny asked, smiling brightly. It was a slightly fake smile, as she figured it should be when people first saw Dennis' scars.

 

He just gave a brief nod, his eyes flicking to Neville briefly. Ginny tried not to stare. When Dennis looked at Neville, she could see the emotion in them, unlike she had seen at the Cloffice. She was certain it hadn't been a trick of the light, but the intensity of his emotion was somewhat unsettling after seeing his face blank for so long.

 

"So how's the job at _The Quibbler_ going, Ginevra?" Neville asked, his eyes looking around the _Hog's Head_ briefly.

 

It was a Hogsmeade weekend and he didn't want to talk about the Cloffice where his students could hear.

 

"It's going as well as it can be, I suppose. My last article was about Malfoy and Zabini. It wasn't as well-received as it could have been," she replied with a slight grin.

 

"Ah, Ronnie-kins at it again?" Neville asked, grinning broadly.

 

"Of course. It's his mission in life to ruin mine, and he will stop at nothing to succeed," Ginny replied, rolling her eyes.

 

Aberforth called out that their drinks were ready, and Dennis got up without a word.

 

"You haven't got anything to say about my choice of partner then?" Neville asked when Ginny was silent.

 

"No, why do you think I'd have any input into that?" Ginny asked, frowning slightly.

 

"Because you've had something to say about all of them, Ginevra," he replied, continuing when she looked at him with a slightly confused look, "Justin had wandering eyes, Theodore was a player, Ramone kept trying to feel you up..."

 

"He did; he was; and he didn't for very long," Ginny replied, a smirk settling on her face at the memory of the Bat Bogey Hex.

 

Dennis seemed to be lingering at the bar, waiting for some sort of signal from Neville so he could come back. Ginny looked at Dennis as he watched them. Well, to be more accurate, Dennis was only looking at Neville. There was a slight desperation in his eyes, as if he was afraid that everything was a dream and Neville would disappear if he looked away for too long.

 

"Does he smile? Have you heard him laugh?" Ginny asked, looking back to Neville.

 

"Not often, but when he does..." Neville trailed off with a smile.

 

Ginny smiled, crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair. That was all the answer she needed. Dennis came back to the table, placing the drinks in front of them carefully.

 

"You look after Neville, understand me?" Ginny said to Dennis, her tone and face serious. "If you hurt him, you'll have my wand on you faster than you can blink."

 

Dennis looked slightly surprised, as if he couldn't comprehend the thought of hurting Neville, but still nodded.

 

"Good. Now, how are the students at Hogwarts this year? Any potential herbologists?" Ginny asked Neville, grinning.

 

Before he could reply, an owl flew into the restaurant and a letter was dropped in front of Ginny. Frowning when she recognised the Ministry seal, Ginny opened the letter.

 

_Dear Miss Ginevra Weasley,_

 

 

_While your recent dismissal from the Ministry was unfortunate, it is not possible for you to return to the job at this or any later stage. In light of this, it would be much appreciated if you please inform your mother, Mrs. Molly Weasley, to stop owling the Minister to petition for the reinstatement of you to your previous job._

 

_Enclosed are the daily letters received from your mother to the Ministry._

 

_Kind regards,_

 

 _The Minister of Magic_.

 

Looking into the envelope, Ginny could see the bundles of letters that had been shrunk down to fit inside.

 

"I recognise that look. Who's getting hexed this time?" Neville asked with a grin, his arms crossed on his chest.

 

"My mother," Ginny muttered.

 

...

 

Ginny and George Apparated to the Burrow. George could see the anger in Ginevra's eyes, but hadn't dared to ask her what was wrong. No matter what the Cloffice had trained him for, there was no class on how to deal with his sister who looked positively murderous.

 

"There you are, Ginny. You'd best be careful around your brother, he's still on a rampage about that article," Arthur warned her in a hushed tone.

 

She smiled at her father and nodded her thanks for his warning. "I can handle him. Where's Mother?" she asked, barely able to keep her tone pleasant.

 

"In the kitchen, of course. She's just putting the pie in the oven for dessert," he replied.

 

"Dinner's served!" Molly called out, as if on cue.

 

George watched Ginny warily as he followed her to the dining room.

 

"Hello, Mother," she said, all politeness.

 

"Oh, hello dear. Are you eating enough? You look thin as a rake," Molly murmured, patting Ginny's shoulder.

 

"I'm eating enough, and I've been exercising a lot. Thank you for your concern."

 

George didn't like this, not one bit. He had never seen such forced and excessive politeness from his sister before, no matter what had happened to her. He sat down next to Ginny, trying to catch her eye or tap her leg to get an explanation of some sort. She ignored his attempts, brushed away his hand, and smiled over at their mother again.

 

"Don't exercise too much, dear. I doubt that losing all that weight will make Harry come back to you," Molly said, oblivious to George and Ginny's failed interactions.

 

"I know that, thank you, Mother," Ginny replied.

 

It was almost comical to see his siblings reactions. Even Ron, the most thickheaded of the lot, could notice that there was something wrong with Ginny. Pure anger was bubbling right beneath her surface, covered with the most polite attitude _any_ of them had seen from her before.

 

"Bill, pass the potatoes, would you?" Ginny asked her older brother, who was holding the bowl of potatoes uncertainly.

 

He did it quickly and without a word. He raised an eyebrow at George, silently asking him if he knew what was wrong. George shrugged in response, he had no idea.

 

"I saw Neville today for lunch," Ginny said, her tone slipping back to its' normal conversational one.

 

"Oh yes? How is dear Neville? Has he found a girlfriend yet?" Molly asked, smiling.

 

"You know perfectly well that Neville is gay, Mother. He will have a girlfriend the day I get my old Ministry job back," Ginny replied, looking at her mother pointedly.

 

 _Oh, gods'. What had Molly done now_? George wondered, even as he inched away from Ginny.

 

Molly paled slightly and looked away from her daughter's intense glare. "Well, you never know," she said, her voice a pitch higher.

 

"No, but you would, considering you've been owling the Minister **every single day** since I was fired from my job!" Ginny said.

 

George didn't know if he was proud or infinitely terrified that Ginny's voice still hadn't raised yet. Before Cloffice, she would have been screaming so loud that the ghoul would have hidden from her. But now, now she had a quiet tone to her voice that seemed more dangerous than any shouted threats ever could have.

 

"Honestly, Mother? Why would you do that? I understand that you support me and want what's best for me, or whatever you've put this down to, but you continued to owl even after I got my job at _The Quibbler_!"

 

"I just didn't think that job was right for you," Molly replied, her voice raising slightly.

 

"Then tell **me** that! Don't tell the Minister of Magic that he is _a blubbering idiot for letting my job go to my assistant who was no more than a ladder-climbing hussy_ ," Ginny said, obviously quoting something Molly had written.

 

"Mum!" Ron said, shocked that she would have said that.

 

"Stay out of this, Ronald," Molly said sharply.

 

George held back his laughter; his brother should have had more sense to interrupt this.

 

"You even owled this morning," Ginny said, ignoring Ron. She pulled out a letter from her robe pocket, and read, " _The Ministry is a good-for-nothing place that I wouldn't ever bring myself to work at, and if I have my way, then none of my family will be working there come next week_!"

 

"Now, Molly. That's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Arthur said anxiously. He'd only just come out of another allegation of his using Muggle artefacts. If the Minister took Molly's words seriously, then he might not have a job to go to on Monday morning!

 

Percy and Ron were both silent, but it was obvious that they were thinking about their own jobs as well.

 

"Luckily, the Minister didn't even bother to open this letter, or come Monday morning, George and I would be the only ones to have jobs! Who do you think supplies Gringotts with wizards?" Ginny asked, looking at Bill. "And how do you think Charlie got his job at the dragon lair in Romania? Or Percy as the _Minister's personal assistant_? Ron's job would have been lost, as the Aurors are all part of the Ministry too, remember Mother?"

 

Molly was silent, and Ginny glared once more.

 

"You would have risked the jobs of everyone else in the family just because of one job that I've had. I was the one fired, and I've gotten over it already. I have a job that I enjoy, and that I'm surprisingly good at. You may not be happy with the choice I've made, but let me ask you this Mother: _if I had quit my job, would you have done all of this_?"

 

Molly opened her mouth to answer, but she found that she was speechless.

 

"I didn't think so," Ginny said, and turned back to her dinner.

 

The rest of the meal was eaten in complete silence for the first time in George's memory. Even after Fred's death, they'd still talked amongst themselves. He wished Pansy could have seen Ginny; her emotional control wouldn't have been questioned then as it had been when Ginny was tested with Potter's presence.

 

 _Maybe she can see it_ , Fred whispered, a grin on both of their faces.

 

...

 

After the silent dinner had finished, Ron went over to Ginny. She looked at him, wondering what he had to say. George moved away slightly to give the semblance of privacy, but he was really listening in and keeping an eye on them.

 

"I... I, uh... I just wanted to say... Well, the thing is..." Ron said, stumbling through his words.

 

"Spit it out, Ronald," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

 

He took a deep breath and nodded. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. About going off at you for the article. You were right, I didn't do anything like that when the one about Harry dumping you came out, and I'm sorry. Are you all right? You know, with Harry cheating on you and all?" Ron asked, looking at her.

 

George frowned. _What on earth had Ginny said to Ron to make him apologise so sincerely like that_? If it had been anyone else, George would have checked to see if it was actually them. _Actually, screw that, he would check_...

 

His mind slipped into Ron's almost as soon as he'd thought of it, and George wasn't too surprised to see thoughts of food and Quidditch at the forefront of his brother's mind. A moment later, the memory of Ginny talking to Ron at her office surfaced, followed by one of Hermione telling him what a block-headed idiot he was.

 

 _Well, that explained that then_ , George thought to himself as he returned to his own mind.

 

"I am perfectly fine not being with Harry. I am not all right with the fact that he cheated on me, but I don't expect you to lose his friendship over my feelings towards him," Ginny said, and Ron sighed in relief. "And since you're fine with the article, I can tell you that I've been invited by Blaise Zabini to go to the Malfoy Annual Ball. I accepted his invitation."

 

Molly had just walked into the lounge room, and on hearing Ginny's news, she gasped in surprise. Silence surrounded them again, and George hid his grin.

 

"W-what?" Ron spluttered, his face turning red.

 

"Are... Are you sure that's wise, Ginny?" Molly asked hesitantly.

 

"Yes, I do. I'm going as a reporter for _The Quibbler_. Blaise asked me in response to my article, so I am already presuming that there will be an apologetic article come that Saturday," Ginny said, grinning briefly.

 

Bill laughed softly, covering it with a cough when Charlie nudged him in the ribs.

 

"B-but you can't! It's _Zabini_! At the _Malfoy_ Ball! You're a _Weasley_! You... you _can't_!" Ron said, his breathing becoming shallow.

 

"I am well aware of who I am going with, where to, and what my surname is, Ronald. I have accepted, I am going, and I've given you more than enough time to deal with it," she replied.

 

Molly stepped forward, a slight frown on her face. Ron looked relieved, thinking that she would forbid Ginny from attending. He looked at his sister smugly.

 

"Do you have enough money to buy some new dress robes, or would you like some money for them? I have a few Sickles saved up for a rainy day, but I think this would be much nicer. I won't have a daughter of mine turning up to the Malfoy Annual Ball in old robes," Molly said firmly, a smile on her face.

 

The smug look on Ron's face disappeared completely, and Ginny tried not to laugh at his expression.

 

"I am paid quite well, and I will have enough to buy new robes. Thank you for the offer, Mother," she replied, polite once more, but her tone genuine.

 

Molly smiled again, looking relieved. In the kitchen, a rooster started crowing. It was the alarm for the oven, and she looked at her sons and daughter brightly. "Who wants dessert?"

 

...

End of the twelfth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features the Killing Curse used on rats.

"As you will know from your classes last week, you are required to teach one class in order to demonstrate what you have learnt," Pansy said, standing in front of them. "Please think about all that you have learnt in the past month and choose a class that you think has benefited you the most. When you have made your decision, come to my office one at a time so that I can take you where you need to go."

Within seconds, Claudia stood and went into Pansy's office.

"What are you going to do?" Morrigan asked Ginny the moment the door closed behind Claudia.

"I'm not sure yet; you?" Ginny asked, smiling briefly.

"I'm thinking the etiquette class," she replied.

"Not the health and nutrition one?" she asked.

"I did think of that, but I already knew about plants and poisons before I came here."

"Then you know your answer," Jordan said, grinning.

"What have you decided on?" Ginny asked.

"Basic healing," he answered. "I learnt a lot of important things in that class, and I want to make sure I don't forget them."

Ginny watched for Morrigan's reaction, but the other girl didn't seem surprised. The door opened and with a smile at both of them, Morrigan walked into the office. The door closed once more, and Ginny looked at Jordan.

"So how did Morrigan know about you choosing basic healing?" she asked, grinning slightly.

Jordan didn't answer for a moment. He reddened slightly and coughed, mumbling something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I told her on the weekend," Jordan replied.

"And when did you do that? Did anyone see you?" Ginny asked, her voice quiet.

"We bumped into each other at Flourish and Blotts. We have a common acquaintance who introduced us. It works out," he answered.

"And this common acquaintance wouldn't have found it suspicious that you or Morrigan just firecalled out of the blue to go to _Flourish and Blotts_?"

"No, apparently George was very accommodating when Morrigan firecalled. I think he's done this sort of thing before," Jordan said, his face brighter still.

"George? George Weasley? _My brother_ , George?"

"Yes, I don't know any other George."

"How was it that George knew either of you before Cloffice?" Ginny asked, still attempting to wrap her mind around the surprise.

"He used to get potions and plants for his shop from Morrigan. I was a fairly regular customer at _Wheezes_. Young nephews and nieces; they love their uncle," he added with a grin.

The door opened once more and Jordan went inside. Ginny waited, trying to figure out if she was upset at the fact that Morrigan and Jordan were able to be together in public when there was no chance of it happening with her and Draco and Blaise, or if George had somehow known Morrigan and Jordan before this and hadn't told her.

Still in her own thoughts, Ginny barely noticed when the door opened again moments later. She came out of her stupor when she was standing in front of Pansy and being asked which lesson she wanted to teach.

"Physical training; the class that Dennis teaches," Ginny answered.

Pansy looked at her for a moment and then nodded. "Very well. Follow me," she said, throwing some Floo Powder in the fireplace. " _Training Centre One_ ," she said, stepping into the green flames.

Trying to put her thoughts to the back of her mind, Ginny followed quickly.

"After you have finished teaching this class, I will come to take you back to the training centre so you can complete the rest of your classes for the day," Pansy said as she led her to the classroom.

Ginny nodded, expecting as much.

"After that, if you wouldn't mind, I would like for you to show me how to create that protective bubble you made last week. I've never seen anything like it before," Pansy added.

"Will you tell me how you became Director?" Ginny asked, surprising herself.

 _She hadn't even been thinking about that_! Her mind had gone back to George, but somehow she'd asked _that_ instead.

Pansy stopped short, but besides this, there was nothing else to convey her surprise.

"If you wish to hear it, then I will tell it to you afterwards," she agreed with a nod.

"Thank you."

They were silent the last few metres to the classroom. Once Pansy had instructed the students that Ginny was to be their teacher for this lesson, she left to return to her office.

Ginny introduced herself and looked at the three students before her. She didn't recognise any of them, but she considered that a blessing. Two - one man and woman - looked to be her age, if not a bit younger, and the third - a man - was probably George's age.

"Right, so what do you know about fighting?" Ginny asked, looking at them in turn.

They didn't seem overly confident in answering her question, and she received half-arsed mumbles and mutters.

Ginny decided that there were only two ways to get them to answer: kindness or cruelty. She didn't have the time or the patience for the former, so the latter became necessary.

A second of concentration had their chairs disappearing and the three students falling to the ground.

"I asked a question, I expected an answer. What do you know about fighting?" she repeated with a glare.

"Kicks, punches, the usual stuff," the older one replied, looking quite miffed that she'd made their chairs disappear.

Ginny repressed a smirk; if they thought _she_ was bad they had another thing coming when it came to Dennis' methods.

"All of you, on your feet!"

They did so quickly, and without a warning, Ginny threw a punch at one of the younger ones. He wasn't expecting it and fell to the ground once more, clutching his cheek.

"Get off the ground and fight!" she said, moving to kick the woman.

She jumped over Ginny's foot and kicked back at her. Ginny leant back but not before the woman's foot grazed her stomach. Standing, she indicated for the woman to join her classmates. The two men were fighting, but she saw that they were blocking and defending the punches and kicks.

"Did I say to defend yourselves?" Ginny growled, hexing them both. "Fight!"

The woman grinned and began to fight eagerly, punching, and kicking at the older man with all she had. The younger man realised his wand first and soon his opponents were fighting his spells.

Ginny watched as the fight progressed. They seemed to be tiring, their punches slower, the hexes not aimed as well as earlier in the lesson. They needed to work on their stamina. She concentrated for a moment, and seconds later three dummies appeared in the room. The wooden dummies began making their way towards their opponents.

Dennis had done the same thing to them on their second lesson. The dummies didn't tire as humans did, and forced the wizards and witches fighting them to get past their own feelings of fatigue and exhaustion in order to defeat them.

The younger man let out a scream as the dummy's arms wrapped around his torso, crushing him. His classmates were too busy fending off their own dummies to help him.

By the end of the class, not one had beat their own dummy. Ginny hadn't expected them to; they would need far more stamina than they had shown to do that. Their eyes were shining brightly as they left the classroom, energy replacing the fatigue. The woman thanked Ginny as she left, nodding to Pansy who was waiting outside.

"I'd like a moment, please Pansy," Dennis said from behind Ginny.

She clenched her hand to show her surprise, but didn't jump in fright as she might have once.

Pansy nodded, smiled at Ginny briefly and closed the door.

Ginny turned to face Dennis, wondering how long he'd been there.

"I watched the entire lesson," Dennis answered her unasked question, his voice quiet.

She waited for him to elaborate and then realised that he was waiting for a response from her. "How do you think they went? Did I bring out the dummies too soon?" Ginny asked.

"They got tired quickly, so the dummies were fine," he said evenly, his words reassuring. "I think... I think that you would be a very good teacher, Ginevra."

The compliment stunned Ginny, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at him. For the previous week, Dennis had watched her fight, defend, block, kick, punch, all but kill her opponent, and the most she'd had from him was a nod. To be receiving a compliment on her teaching skills was... odd, to say the least.

"Thank you, Dennis," she finally replied.

He just nodded.

Ginny left the room, still in a form of pleasant shock.

Pansy was already waiting, and within a few minutes, Ginny was in Training Centre Two receiving her timetable for the month and directions to get to her first lesson. She had read on the parchment that it was a lesson on Unforgivables - the only lesson for the entire day, actually. The Unforgivable class was only scheduled for this day, none other.

She thought back to Hogwarts and Mad Eye Moody's teachings. Ginny shivered at the memory of the rat dancing, its' terrified and painful squeaks as it was put under the Cruciatus Curse. Apparently, after so many people had been sick in her class, Moody had changed it to a spider.

Ginny hoped that they wouldn't have to perform Unforgivables on animals.

If she'd known exactly what the class entailed, she might have hoped differently.

...

" _Crucio_!"

Ginny's screams echoed in her own ears, the sound increasing every part of pain she felt. The pain was too much, much too much, but all she could do was scream.

"Push past it, Weasley! _Crucio_!"

Another onslaught of pain and her screams only stopped when her throat became too raw for the action. She shivered, trembled, convulsed, every movement attempting to reject the pain, the magic that was forcing her to feel like every part of her body was on fire, freezing, bleeding, broken.

She tried to keep her mind together, but the pain was slowly loosening her grip. Tom began to whisper in her mind and she screamed once more, not caring that all she could taste was blood in her mouth.

" _Crucio_!"

 _No more, no more. Please no more. It hurts too much, too much pain. Pain, pain, pain. Make it stop, make it go away. Far too much. Stop, stop, stop_.

 _Who are you asking to make it stop_? a little voice asked, seeming unaffected by her pain.

 _Instructor, myself, someone, anyone. You, if you can. Make it stop, make it stop_.

 _I can't stop it anymore than you can, as I am you_.

 _But you're not in pain, pain, pain. Why aren't you feeling this pain? It hurts too much_!

 _I'm a different part of your consciousness. Sub-conscious, perhaps. I've never looked too closely; I am just_ ** _here_**.

Tom whispered, his voice completely different to the other voice in her head. Ginny knew that the other voice was hers at least, even through the pain.

 _You want to know how to stop it, little one? Let go. Join me, and I will make it all go away_ , Tom murmured, his voice silk and promises.

The other voice was silent, and Ginny continued her silent rant of pain.

Another Crucio hit her, and she started tearing at her own flesh to make it stop. 

 _Let go, little one. Let it all go_.

In her mind, she began to let go of her grip on her thoughts.

 _Bad idea! Get back in here! Dig in and_ ** _don't let go_** , the voice said, all practicality and sense.

Her strength, both physical and mental, was waning, but Ginny managed to do as the voice - her voice - told her.

Her mind was splintering, cracking. Her body was bleeding from her nail marks. She wished she had her wand to turn it on herself. That would make it stop. _Forever_.

 _Don't be stupid. You can let go of_ ** _that_** _thought this instant_. The voice sounded disgusted and offended at her suicidal thought. _Now, do as I say_.

 _No, don't listen, little one. Haven't I always told you the truth? I told you everything and anything you ever wanted, didn't I? Let go. Let go and let me take care of you, as I always have. Let go, little one_.

Even through the pain, Ginny knew that it would be too easy. She could let go and Tom would handle everything for her. Just like he had when she was eleven and scared. The other voice was silent, as if waiting for her decision.

She could let go and forever remain eleven years old and scared of a thunderstorm. Or she could get a grip on herself and be the twenty-one year old she was.

As hard as she could, she pushed Tom's thoughts away. Another scream, another Crucio, or maybe it was just all in her mind.

 _Good choice. Now, reach for your magic. Go on, you know where it is. You always have_.

 _Had she?_ She had no idea _where_ her magic was. If she had her wand, Ginny could have reached for it easily. It wasn't in one particular place, it was all through her, every part of her fibre and being as she wove a spell or hex with it.

 _Everything has to come from somewhere_ , the voice said sensibly, and then stayed silent.

 _Was that another Crucio_? Ginny didn't even know. Her body had shut itself down so much in its' attempt to survive that she no longer felt the Unforgivable.

 _Was this it then? Had she already started dying? No, she couldn't die. She wouldn't die and leave George alone. She was stronger than this, she had to be. How would the Cloffice explain her death to her family? To her mother? Misguided, overbearing at times and yet still loving, Ginny wasn't sure if her mother could handle her death_.

Reaching into her mind, into her heart, into her soul itself, she found her inner source of magic. The pillar of magic was Weasley red, specks of white flowing through it. Magic was still flowing to her body, despite the fact that it was shutting down.

As she saw it in her mind's eye, Ginny thought she recognised her Patronus in the magic, her Bat Bogey hex, even the simple Scourify she'd used to clean soot from her robes. It was a haywire magic, shooting off in every direction, no matter which part of her body actually required the magic. She was a raw bundle of magical _mess_.

 _That's it then. Now, meld both of us into it_.

 _Both_?

 _Well, I don't fancy screaming at you through that. One of us has to keep you in line_ , the voice said with a grin.

Ginny felt her consciousness move towards the pillar of magic. The magic burnt a brighter red, whether to repel or welcome she didn't know and couldn't control. She couldn't even stop what was happening, her mind melding with the magic. Flying strands pulled themselves in, different pieces of magic joining and combining with her magical core. More and more strands wove themselves together, and Ginny realised that it wasn't a pillar, but a tapestry of life and magic and wonder and soul and it was _everything_.

The tapestry/pillar/magic/soul burst in a flash of red-white light.

Ginny sat up with a gasp. Her arms were bleeding, long gouges from her nails in them. Her body was shivering and her head was pounding. Despite the physical pain she was feeling, she felt fine. Actually, she felt better than she ever remembered. This feeling was on par with getting her very first wand. It just felt _right_.

"Congratulations, Weasley. It took you long enough," the instructor said with a grin, handing her a large piece of chocolate.

Ginny ate the chocolate slowly. She was going to ask the instructor for her wand, but the little voice in her mind - her own voice, no one else's - made a noise that clearly translated to ' _you idiot_ ', and she found her hand pressing down on two of the larger marks.

A basic healing spell flowed from her lips automatically, but Ginny instinctively knew that she could have thought it and the spell would have worked. Moving her hand, she rubbed the still-wet blood off her arm. She stared at the pink marks, watching as her arm healed slowly before her eyes. She did the same for the rest of her injuries and then closed her eyes to rest, tired from the ordeal.

...

George was waiting in front of the fireplace when Ginny stepped out, still feeling exhausted.

The instructor had kept them in the room for the entire day, not even letting them go to the cafeteria for lunch. They'd had their lunch delivered by some students from the cooking class, apparently. Ginny had been ravenous and wouldn't have cared if it'd been delivered by a Death Eater in a ballerina outfit.

Once they had beaten the Cruciatus Curse, they'd then had to perform it on dummies. Then they'd advanced on to use the Unforgivable on _each other_. Morrigan's screams still echoed in her ears.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Oh no, not by far.

Once their instructor was satisfied that they'd mastered the Cruciatus Curse, he then had them move on to the Imperius Curse.

He controlled them for a short while, yelling for them to get past it. Ginny was surprised to find that it was easier to get past this than the Cruciatus. She didn't know if it would have been so easy if she hadn't controlled and melded with her inner magic. Ginny knew that she didn't want to find out.

Again, they practiced on dummies, and then on each other. Claudia's tap dancing skills were awful, and the terrified look in her eyes as Ginny forced her to pick up a dagger to plunge in her own heart - or anyone else's - and the knowledge that she _would_. Claudia had only just pushed past the spell moments before the dagger reached her chest.

But still, it wasn't the worst part.

The Killing Curse. Avada Kedavra; the final and ultimate Unforgivable.

They'd practiced on dummies, each wondering if they would have to practice _this_ on each other as well. _Would they?_ ** _Could_** _they_?

The instructor opened cages, rats pouring out to Claudia's scared screams. They were to kill as many rats as they could, using the Killing Curse.

Before they could start, the instructor hexed each of them. Before Ginny's eyes, the rats had become humans. Every person she had ever known was now a rat, and she had to kill them. He'd ensured they wouldn't kill each other, and then told them to begin.

Fred's laughing face in front of her as the rat crawled closer. George's one-eared sombre face. Her mother, her father, Charlie, Bill, Percy, Ron. Even Fleur was among the masses. Harry and Cho were there too, but Ginny couldn't even bring herself to turn her wand on _them_.

Another spell from the instructor had the rat-humans raising their wands, the Killing Curse on their own lips.

She knew, deep down, that they couldn't kill her. But instincts had her raising her wand and killing them before they killed _her_.

The smell of blood filled the air, far too much for her kills, meaning that Morrigan, Jordan, and Claudia had started to kill the rats as well.

The instructor removed the hostility from the rats' images.

It took Ginny longer than she would have liked to realise that the rats - her family and friends and enemies and loved ones - didn't have their wands raised anymore.

It was by far, the worst thing she'd ever done. 

Seeing George waiting on the other side of the fireplace, Ginny opened the grate and stepped into the lounge room. He didn't say a word; he simply held his arms out. Ginny collapsed into his waiting arms, sobbing.

He didn't try to console her; there were no words or actions that could after such a thing. Instead, George held her as she cried, and waited for the tears to end.

 

...

End of the thirteenth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

Draco and Blaise watched as Ginevra entered the cafeteria, her eyes scanning the room. She seemed pale, and it looked like she had used Glamours to hide puffy eyes. Which meant she'd had her Unforgivable class yesterday.

The class was randomly scheduled; theirs had been the day after teaching the seduction class.

Ginevra looked at them for a moment, as if deciding whether to sit with them or not. Blaise raised an eyebrow slightly and Draco nudged the chair opposite him with his foot. She smiled briefly and walked over, glancing around the cafeteria.

Where the first Training Centre's cafeteria was loud and filled with people talking to each other, this one was far more subdued and people didn't seem prone to chatter. After her lesson yesterday, Ginny wasn't too surprised at their need to find some peace and quiet.

"How are you?" Blaise asked softly as she sat down.

"Been better," she replied, attempting to shrug it off.

A green aeroplane flew into the cafeteria, diving directly into Ginny's peas. With a slight frown, she brushed off some of the stray vegetables, unfolded the plane and read the note.

_Ginevra,_

_Please meet me in my office after your classes._

_Regards,_

_Pansy_.

After the Unforgivables lesson the day before, Pansy had taken one look at her and told her to go home to rest, stating that she wouldn't have even been able to conjure a Patronus. Ginny _could_ have conjured it, but she felt so emotionally exhausted that she didn't argue and went home instead.

Ginny disintegrated the note, sweeping the ashes into her napkin. After the morning's lesson on cryptography and secret messages, Ginny was sure she'd be paranoid about her letters for the rest of her life.

"Draco, Blaise. How are you?" Jordan asked as he and Morrigan sat down on either side of Ginevra.

The three men exchanged pleasantries but their conversation soon died down, the atmosphere in the cafeteria effectively stopping anything pleasant. Suddenly, Ginny couldn't wait for this month to be over.

"Did you get any sleep last night? I was so exhausted, but I couldn't stop thinking and seeing the ... well, you-know-whats," Morrigan whispered, glancing around the cafeteria.

"I think I managed about three hours of sleep," Ginny replied, not wanting to talk about how she'd spent nearly all night screaming over nightmares of rats, of death, of everything she'd seen and done, or how George had come into her room with a concoction of three different dreamless potions just so she could stop and fall into a mind-numbing blackness.

"It's a difficult lesson to forget," Draco said with an understanding nod.

"When was yours?" Morrigan asked.

"Last Tuesday," Blaise replied. "We weren't exactly in the mood for company, even each other's, and just stayed in our homes when we weren't here," he said, his eyes flicking to Ginny quickly.

She gave a minute nod, understanding why they hadn't contacted her for almost an entire week.

"Each other's company? So is Ginny's article true then?" Morrigan asked, grinning broadly.

"We didn't comment on the article when it came out, and we won't comment on it now. Not even unofficially," Blaise replied, smirking when her grin faded.

"Spoilsport," Morrigan muttered, but she was smiling so it was good-natured enough.

There was some talk of an upcoming Quidditch game between the Harpies and Cannons, but they didn't get as excited or loud about it as they normally would have done. The silence around them closed in, creating their own circle of noise.

Ginny didn't feel comfortable with the lack of noise - growing up in a family with six older brothers usually meant a _lot_ of noise, especially over Quidditch - and contributed little. She kept her eyes on Draco and Blaise, watching as their hands moved as they talked, the polite way they used napkins rather than sleeves, the way they tried to keep everyone in the conversation, even her. She could imagine them at a boring Ministry function, keeping it exciting and drawing everyone to them with their charm alone. They saw her watching, of course, and looked back at her when Jordan and Morrigan were preoccupied.

Then, lunch was over. They were all standing, and Ginny hurried to get up as well, forgetting where she was for a moment. Her bag went flying off her lap, crashing to the floor before anyone could catch it, her things falling out of the opening. She knelt to pick it up, only slightly embarrassed than she might have been once. Blaise helped her, picking up the small objects quickly and deftly. He winked at her as he held her bag open and she quickly returned the gathered belongings to it. In his fingers, she saw a small square of parchment. It dropped into her open bag as well, and then Draco and Blaise were both gone.

...

"While you might be adept at lying now, your body isn't," their teacher said, looking at their confused faces for a moment. "An example? You, stand up," she said, indicating to Claudia. "What's your name?"

"My name's Claudia," she replied.

"Right, now what's your name?" she asked Morrigan.

Standing as Claudia had done, Morrigan answered, "I'm Morrigan."

"Excellent; now I want both of you to lie to me. Tell me your name using the other person's name, please."

They looked at each other, both slightly confused and repulsed at the same time.

"Go on then. You are?" she asked Morrigan.

"Hi, I'm Claudia," she replied, holding her hand out to shake and attempting a smile.

Her hand trembled slightly, but her smile didn't waver. The teacher shook her hand firmly, her hands clasped on top of their joined hands.

"Lovely to meet you. And you are?" she asked, looking at Claudia.

There was a second of hesitation before she replied. "I'm Morrigan," Claudia said, her arms crossed.

"Wonderful. Both of you sit down, please."

Looking smug, Claudia sat down. Morrigan looked a bit disappointed, but sat down as well.

"Let's see what you both did wrong, shall we?"

Claudia's smug expression fell from her face quickly.

The teacher tapped her wand to a small circle engraved in the floor. An image of Claudia hovered above the circle.

"My name's Claudia," her image said.

"See this? Her body's loose and she knows exactly who she is," the teacher said, replaying to show her relaxed stance and low shoulders. "But this?" she said, tapping her wand to reveal Claudia's second response. "Completely wrong."

"I'm Morrigan," Claudia's image said.

"See how her arms were folded across her chest? It's a classic defensive stance. Her eyes also gave her lie away. See here," she said, focusing the image on Claudia's eyes and replaying it again. "Her eyes glanced to the left slightly. That's not always a clear sign of lying, but in this case it was. In the first one, her eyes went to the right," she added, showing the first image. "By looking to the right, she showed that she was remembering something. Maybe she's been asked the question before, and she was thinking of that when she answered. Claudia also answered straight away, without hesitation, but the second time, there **was** hesitation, meaning she had to think about it. Most people know their names without that pause."

Claudia's image disappeared and Morrigan's replaced it. Both recordings played and their teacher looked to them.

"Now, what do you think Morrigan did wrong?"

"My hand shook," Morrigan said immediately.

"That is one," she admitted, "but if the person you're pretending to be has a nervous tic, then it could be considered as that. What else?"

"She sort of shook her head when she said her name," Ginny said, frowning as she looked at the replaying image.

"Good! What else?"

"Her smile doesn't reach her eyes," Jordan said.

"Good! Anything else?"

When they had finished, their teacher brought up images of people's faces. Each one showed different emotions for a split second. She slowed the first few done, showing them how to notice what was right and wrong, what small movement showed the truth or a lie. It could have been the lifting of an eyebrow, a tug of the lips, a crease of the forehead. Then the images went by at a quicker pace. The signs were minute and flashed by so quickly that Ginny's eyes strained to keep up and capture anything of the telltale signs.

The lesson ended with a promise for Jordan and Ginny to have their own truth and lies evaluated in the next class.

Ginny just hoped she could remember everything to keep her lie look truthful enough.

...

Escaping to the bathroom before the others could respond, Ginny waited until she knew that the stalls were empty to look at the note Blaise had slipped into her bag.

It was a musical score, nothing more. Reading the title 'Queen of the Night Aria', Ginny frowned slightly. It didn't provide much insight into whatever Draco and Blaise were attempting to tell her.

Looking down at the plain parchment once more, she tried to look at the words for the score objectively to see if there was a message hidden in them. Not seeing anything obvious, she tried a few different revealing spells she'd learnt that morning. Nothing happened, no mysterious message on either side of the parchment.

Realising that she was taking too long, even for a bathroom break, Ginny folded the note once more and left quickly.

...

"Ginevra, is that you?" Pansy asked as she opened her office door, frowning slightly.

"Of course it is," she replied, wondering at her question.

"I presume you just had a lesson on disguises?" Pansy asked, humour lacing her tone.

Realising that she hadn't taken the charms off, Ginny hurried to return her nose to its original size, her hair fading from brown to red once more, and her skin lightening as well.

"Sorry, I got used to that face," she said, grinning slightly.

"Don't apologise, it's good that you're able to adjust to new features so quickly. It took me a while to get used to looking in the mirror with a new nose," Pansy replied, closing the door behind her.

Ginny laughed softly, surprised that the Director would make such a joke about her own features.

"Now, what would you like to do first? The bubble spell, or would you care to hear how I became Director?" she asked.

"Your backstory, if you don't mind. I think the bubble spell will tire me and I want to know this," Ginny replied, surprising herself at how truthful that last part was.

Pansy gave her a brief smile and nodded. Her smile faded as she thought back over the years, over her naivety, stubbornness, raw stupidity, even with all of her cunning.

"I was once in your position, training for Cloffice without really knowing what it was. I was younger than you - the war was still going, in its' first few years, in fact - yet I thought I was invincible. I pushed myself further and further with everything I learnt, eager to get into the field. I was accepted into the field a week after I finished my studies."

Pansy paused for a moment here, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. Cloffice no longer let rookies into the field so soon - they were all required to stay out for at least three months now. It had been her mistake that had let to the change of policy, but she would get to that eventually.

"Since I was a rookie, I was assigned a partner for my first few ... missions," she said, the term much more delicate than what it really had been.

She repressed the shudder at the memory of the blood, the mess, the stink of human flesh and sex mixing with the smell of her own vomit. There was a reason she wasn't showing Ginevra her story through the Pensieve.

Pansy continued, none of her emotions showing on her face, "My partner was the former-former Director. He retired after ten missions with me, and another was promoted to his position. I too, became his partner. My first partner recognised my skill and cunning ability to use new ideas, and wanted me to become Director eventually. His praise of my skills led me to become overconfident and cocky. With only a year in the field, I disregarded advice from my second partner, ignored intelligence that countered my own beliefs, and bent the rules more than once to achieve my goals. Of course, with everything that I was doing, I made myself susceptible and obvious. On my last field mission, I was captured by the opposition. They held me prisoner for almost eleven months. They were not ... kind."

 _Another word that was too delicate for what it had entailed, and another reason to keep the memory locked in the Pensieve_.

Ginny watched with a morbid fascination as Pansy began to roll up her sleeves. Her left forearm was clear of any Dark Mark, but both of her arms bore many more scars than that one. She felt goosebumps cover her own skin as she thought of what Pansy must have gone through during that time.

"My former partner gathered a group of operatives to rescue me. I was saved eventually, but by saving me, the Director was killed. When a Director retires or dies, they are able to pass their knowledge to a person of their choosing. Despite what I had done, he chose to pass that onto me. I have been retired from the field ever since that day, and have led Cloffice from here. I have set up the arrest of twenty Death Eaters from Voldemort's inner circles, fifteen of which the Auror's have taken credit for."

Ginny nodded briefly, understanding that Pansy was simply stating facts and not bragging of her conquests. She knew that there was much more to Pansy's tale than she had told her - it had been watered down and sugar-coated for her, that was obvious - but Ginny suddenly had no desire to know more, not right now. She might ask again later, when she had finished her own training, and if Pansy wanted to tell her the full story at that time, then she could. For now, this would be enough.

Thanking Pansy, Ginny sat up a little straighter and changed the topic to the protection bubble. She pretended not to see the telltale signs of relief and gratitude in Pansy's body language, knowing that the other woman would not appreciate being called on it when she was reliving some very painful memories.

For the next few hours, they both practiced the protection bubble until they could both conjure it with little more than an urgent thought.

When they were done, Ginny Floo'd to her office at _The Quibbler_ , and after a tired goodbye to the receptionist, she returned to the apartment.

...

George wasn't sleeping, not at all. He was just resting his eyes. And if time seemed to go by faster when he was resting his eyes, well that wasn't his fault, now was it? He started suddenly when a log popped and cracked in the fire.

There was a hiss and a whoosh and the flames turned green. Ginny stepped out, looking as exhausted as he felt. Her stomach rumbled so loudly that he could hear it over the noise of the fireplace.

"You didn't even eat anything, did you?" he accused, glaring at her.

"Hello to you too, brother," she said with a yawn.

"Hello. Now get into the kitchen and eat. You should have stopped for something, Ginny, you know how your metabolism is," he admonished, a bit softer now.

Ginny nodded as she dragged herself into the kitchen to do as he said. If she finished eating in twenty minutes, her stomach would have enough time to settle before she had to go to sleep.

George hung back, one eye on his exhausted sister and the other on the fireplace. He should call Pansy and tell her off too, and then make sure that she had something to eat as well. But Ginevra looked ready to fall asleep in her bowl of soup if she wasn't careful.

"When did you get a piano?" Ginny asked suddenly, staring at the instrument as if she'd never seen it before.

He shouldn't have been so surprised at her reaction, really. He'd been using the thing as a side table and had even covered it with a cloth at some point. Up until this morning, it had been covered in a mess of parchments, overdue bills, and quills. George had felt the need to tidy it when his hot water had been turned off by the bastards at _Wizards Water_ right in the middle of his shower. One very angry and wet firecall later, he'd come to the decision that it was time to clean the piano.

"Had it since I moved in, dearest sister. May not have looked like a piano before now, but it's been there all this time nonetheless," George said, grinning.

"Aunt Muriel?" she guessed, grinning back at him.

"The one and only. Said she didn't want to waste the piano lessons she'd paid for when I was younger," he replied. "Apart from the mean old witch who taught them having a sharp wand, I don't remember a thing from those lessons," he added, moving to seat himself in front of the instrument. "But that doesn't mean I don't know things now," George murmured, his fingers flying across the keys with an ease that proved to be the result of long hours of practicing.

"That's beautiful," Ginny said quietly, watching as he started a new song. She finished her soup, and rested back on her chair. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened as her brother continued to play.

"Well, that's all I know. Unless you want me to play Chopsticks?" George offered with a chuckle, knowing how much Ginevra hated that tune.

"Ugh, no, thank you. I'm going to bed now. You have fun," she said, kissing the top of his head before leaving.

Checking the time, George wondered if it would be too late to fire call Pansy. Deciding that it wasn't, he fed the flames and called her grate number.

Pansy answered, bags under her eyes, but she seemed awake and alert at least. "George? What's wrong?" she asked, frowning.

"Just wanted to make sure you had something to eat. You forgot to stop for dinner, and Ginevra almost drowned in her soup," George said, grinning slightly.

"Oh, apologise to her for me. I didn't think to stop, we were making such great progress," Pansy said, returning his smile briefly.

"Work, work, work, always so serious," George muttered.

Out of his view, Pansy's knuckles tightened into a white grip of death on her armchair. Fred had said those exact same words to her, time and time again. She couldn't banter back with her usual response ' _joke, joke, joke, never once serious_ ' - it no longer meant the same thing.

The silence grew between them and the slight smile on George's face fell.

"I'd better let you go. Sorry if I woke you, Pansy," he said, moving to shut the grate.

"George, wait," she said, regretting her silence already. "I ... I just can't. It doesn't mean the same thing as it did before, not when you haven't smiled in years," Pansy added.

He blinked once, the only sign of his surprise that she'd noticed. "I know... Still doesn't change the fact that you haven't laughed in years either," George replied pointedly. "Get some sleep, Pansy," he added, his tone softer and kinder now. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Relief swelled through her, but Pansy pushed it away immediately. It wouldn't do to become an emotional wreck; she was better than that. "Until then. Sleep well, George," she said, allowing herself a brief smile.

"You too. Good night," he said.

"Good night."

They closed their grates at the same time, both fires fizzling down to embers within seconds.

...

Later that night, when George was asleep, Ginny tiptoed out of her room to the piano. Lifting the lid of the stool silently, she gathered the music scores and books inside the hollow seat and returned to her room. Proud that she'd completed her mission without waking her brother, Ginny went through the sheets of music and books to find the score for 'Queen of the Night Aria'. Finding it in a Muggle book labelled 'The Magic Flute', Ginny compared the score with the sheet of music that Draco and Blaise had given her.

It confirmed her theory. _They_ ** _were_** _different! Now, how to decode the message_? she wondered, looking at the different notes with a frown. There weren't enough letters of the alphabet for it to be the notes themselves. _Maybe it was the sung words beneath the notes_?

A few minutes later, Ginny gave up on that train of thought. It was obvious that their message wasn't hidden that way. _Invisible ink, perhaps_? ... _No, not that either_.

She kept trying different methods - revealing spells, charms on both sides of the parchment, even a spell that she was sure wasn't quite Light among other things - but after thirty minutes, Ginny was so exhausted that she was ready to give up for the night.

Sighing softly, she put her head closer to the parchment, her eyes adjusting so that the notes before her seemed enlarged. Ginny noticed that the notes weren't complete circles like they were meant to be. Frowning, she sat up and enlarged the misplaced note. The curve of the circle was actually made up of letters!

Excited now, she enlarged all of the wrong notes, writing the revealed letters on a scrap of parchment. When she'd finished writing, she looked at the words. Ginny's mouth dropped open, the piece of parchment floating down to the floor.

 _Anything and everything_.

 _What bloody teases_ , she thought to herself, ignoring a voice that told her she'd teased them with those exact same words only weeks before.

Lying back on her bed, Ginny rolled over with a huff, the excitement wearing off quickly. She was asleep soon enough, not bothering to put the music scores and sheets away. Let George think what he wanted in the morning.

She dreamt of bubbles and tight pants and doing everything and anything Draco and Blaise wanted.

 

...

End of the fourteenth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

After the dreams she'd had, Ginny woke up extremely frustrated. She went through her morning lessons, wanting them to end as soon as possible so she could find Draco and Blaise. Then she'd give them a piece of her mind for teasing her like that. Or she'd just snog them senseless, she wasn't sure which yet.

Lunch approached far too slowly, but it came nonetheless, and Ginny made her way to the gymnasium. She hadn't seen it yet, and wondered if the machines and devices differed to the ones in Training Centre One.

Ginny opened the door to the gym, stepping inside. The moment the door closed behind her, the music changed to a neutral setting. She was disappointed to see that neither Draco nor Blaise were in the room.

Not wanting to leave now and draw attention to herself, Ginny set her bag down and hurried to shed her outer clothes. The room was mostly similar to the other Training Centre's gym, but it did have a few more machines that she hadn't seen before. Tying her hair up into a messy bun to keep it out of the way, she began to do warm ups.

"I haven't seen you around here before."

"Probably because I haven't been here before," she replied, glancing over at the man without much interest.

He looked nice enough. Brown hair, blue eyes, a charming smile. He reminded her of Lockhart somehow, and that wasn't a good thing.

"Look, I can tell you're not interested. But..." he said, pausing for a moment, "but, I need someone to practice this stuff on. I don't exactly have a supply of women to flirt with, you know?" the man said, scratching behind his ear quickly.

Ginny tried not to laugh. He obviously hadn't been listening much during the truth and lies class. _He had the most classic telltale signs that showed him to be lying_!

"I think there's a few dummies in there that you could try," Ginny replied in amusement, nodding towards the adjacent room labelled 'Dummy Practice'.

"Damn, was I that obvious?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"I, for one, spotted your lie from the doorway, Gladstone," Draco drawled, smirking at him.

"You heard the lady, you can go practice on the dummies," Blaise added.

Gladstone looked between the two men and Ginny. Then he grinned broadly, gathering his bag. "Might just go practice in the cafeteria. The lunch staff love it when I charm them," he said, still grinning as he left.

"Not very subtle, is he?" Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Not in the slightest," Blaise agreed, his fingers stroking her arm gently, "but he knows how to keep a secret."

Draco checked that they were alone before locking the gym door with the lock and a few spells.

Ginny stared at Blaise's hand as he caressed her. The memory of her dreams seemed to return full force and she struggled to keep her breathing normal. She tensed slightly when she felt Draco move up behind her. She hadn't seen, let alone heard him move!

"Relax, Ginevra," he murmured, his hands resting on her hips.

Blaise moved so he was standing directly in front of her, his fingers still caressing her arm slowly.

"Did you like our message?" Draco asked, sounding amused.

Ginny glared at Blaise slightly when he chuckled. "It's not funny! It was so cruel! I couldn't sleep because of..." she went silent quickly, realising that she was about to tell them about the erotic dreams she'd had of them.

"Mmm? Because of what?" Blaise asked, his warm breath against her cheek.

Ginny bit her tongue, refusing to answer.

"And you think _we're_ cruel? What about you, Ginevra?" Draco countered, and she could _hear_ the smirk. "Saying you'll do _anything and everything_ , and then just leaving us like that? It was so very ... **hard** to sleep that night," he added, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin.

She shivered at the innuendo, trying not to moan when he licked her and pressed his body up against hers.

"It's _still_ hard to sleep," Blaise added, his tone a conversational one. If it weren't for the fact he pressed up against Ginny to prove just how hard he was, she almost would have thought he hadn't meant the innuendo.

Ginny licked her lips, rocking her body back and forth against the hard lengths they were pressing against her. They weren't the only ones who'd learnt about sexual manipulation, and she figured it was only good practice to make sure she'd mastered it. That's right, it was all educational...

"Well, it's been difficult for me to sleep as well. I keep having these ridiculous dreams, you know," she murmured, watching Blaise's intense gaze on hers. "I dream that I'm lying naked on a bed with silk sheets, just staring up at the ceiling. But then I notice that the roof isn't there anymore. Suddenly, it starts raining. It's very warm rain, hot almost, and it drenches me. I'm completely **_wet_** from head to toe, and..."

Her words were cut off as Blaise's lips captured her own, his hands resting on her shoulders. Draco was rubbing against her, pressing kisses to her exposed neck gently. His hands stayed on her hips. Reaching up behind her body, she held Draco to her with one hand. Her free hand rested on Blaise's neck, holding him against her too.

"Oh, _fuck me_. Ginevra," he moaned, rubbing his tented pants against her flimsy shorts.

A shrill alarm sounded, and they broke their ministrations reluctantly.

"We've only got a minute before they get in," Draco muttered, sounding disappointed.

"Don't know about you, but I can do a lot in a minute," Blaise said with a smirk.

"You know exactly what I can do in a minute, Blaise," Draco replied, smirking back at him.

Ginny shivered at the images that were running through her mind.

"We'll be in that room ... _training_ ," Blaise said, giving Ginevra a quick kiss before pulling Draco over to the Dummy Practice room.

The alarm began to fade, signalling that the person was almost in the gym. Getting up on a bike, Ginny began to pedal. She tried to ignore the damp feeling between her legs. The bike really wasn't the most comfortable form of exercise when she was so aroused... But then, she supposed it was better than broom training.

A woman made her way into the gym, blissfully unaware of what had been happening inside just moments before.

Miraculously, Ginny resisted the urge to hex her.

...

"Imagine that you're in Muggle London. You're being followed by someone, but you're not sure if they're hostile or friendly. You need to change your look to get away, but you can't use magic without drawing attention to yourself. There are only high-priced clothing stores around, and you only have a small amount of Muggle money. What do you do?"

"Are we already disguised in some way?" Jordan asked.

After thinking about it for a moment, the instructor shook his head. "Normal clothes, your current features."

"I'd take a passerby's hat to cover my hair," Claudia said.

"You want to steal a hat and cause a scene, go ahead," he said with a grin.

"Is the weather cold or hot?" Morrigan asked.

"Cool temperature. Why do you ask?"

"If it's freezing cold and I take off my coat, I'd bring attention to myself by being the only person in a shirt with everyone else on the street rugged up. Since it's cool, I could take my coat off and not draw too much attention."

He nodded at Morrigan's reply, pleased.

"Has the person seen our faces, or just the back of us?" Ginny asked.

"It doesn't matter. No matter if they're friendly or hostile, they could already know what you look like... I see this is going to take more information than I can give," he murmured, stepping back.

The room around them began to change. A busy London street appeared, the temperature becoming cooler, and the four students suddenly had the feeling that they were being followed.

In the back of her mind, Ginny knew it was just a test, but the paranoia was very intense, and she walked down the street, keeping her pace even.

Stopping in front of a store window, she used the reflection to look around and see who was following her. She noticed two men in long black coats and sunglasses looking in her direction. Continuing down the street, Ginny hurried her pace until she was lost in the crowd. When she was able to, she removed her jacket casually, folding it across her arm. She pulled a loose thread from the frayed jacket, tying it into a loop as she walked along. Gathering her hair over her shoulder, Ginny braided it quickly before tying it up into a bun with the newly created tie. It wouldn't last long, but hopefully she'd lose the people following her before it broke.

Moving into a nearby grocery shop, Ginny walked down the aisle slowly, checking her wallet to see how much money she had. Barely ten pounds... _Not good at all_. Looking around the store, she saw a woman leaving the checkout, struggling to carry three heavy bags and keep two unruly children with her. Hurrying over, Ginny smiled at the woman carefully. If she did this wrong, it could become a very bad situation very quickly.

"Would you like some help?" she offered in a pleasant tone, indicating to the heavy bags.

The woman looked at her suspiciously, trying to determine if she was a thief just by sight alone. One of her children tugged on her hand, the bag falling to the ground and the contents spilling out. Ginny hurried to help pick up the groceries and replace them in the bag.

"Thank you. If you could help, that would be great," the woman added, not as wary now that Ginny hadn't run off with the food the moment she had her hands on them.

With another smile, Ginny picked up the bag and took one of the children's hands, leaving the store with the woman. To anyone out on the street, it looked like two mothers had gone out grocery shopping with their two young children.

Two men in black coats and sunglasses walked past, trying to look through the crowd for her. Ginny smiled and helped the woman load the bags into her car.

"Thank you for your help. It's so nice to see people helping each other without wanting something in return," the woman said, smiling brightly.

The street faded away, and Ginny was standing in the room once more, Morrigan, Claudia, and Jordan beside her.

"Very good work. It was interesting to see how you did things so differently, despite facing the exact same situation. Here, watch what you all did," the instructor added, the circle on the floor projecting the image of the same London street.

They went through each of their responses, seeing just how close they were to being discovered.

Claudia had looped her arm around an old Muggle man, who seemed quite pleased to have her on his arm. He didn't seem as happy when she started to call him Grandfather, and she only managed to quiet him by hugging him to her inappropriately low-cut top.

Morrigan had gone down to the underground train station, and found that she didn't have enough money to purchase a ticket. The man at the ticket booth had let her through despite being short a few quid. By the time she'd made it onto a train, the people following her had already anticipated her move and placed themselves on the same train. It was only sheer luck that had her escaping into the large crowd at the next station, her hair loose and jacket reversed.

Jordan had gone into a clothing store. Soon after the two men followed him inside, Jordan had told the woman behind the counter that they were stealing from the shop. A security guard appeared in moments, wrestling both of the men into the back of the store when they refused to show that they weren't hiding clothes beneath their large coats. By the time the cashier had turned to thank Jordan, he had already disappeared back into the crowds outside.

"You were all extremely lucky that these people were so kind. Let's see how things could have gone wrong, shall we?"

There was something in his expression that Ginny didn't like...

Suddenly, the woman she'd helped appeared in front of her. Instead of the nice woman from moments earlier, she was screaming for help, shouting that she was a thief, yelling about her being a pedophile. Ginny tried to leave inconspicuously, but the woman's yells had brought the attention of the men in black to her...

Likewise, the others were having trouble with people who had been kind and helpful only minutes ago.

Claudia was all but attacked by the old man's wife, shouting that she was a home wrecker and a gold digger, and the gods knew what else as she beat at Claudia with her umbrella, and then handbag. The two men came over, promising to take Claudia away from the woman's husband...

The man at the booth refused to let Morrigan into the train station without purchasing a ticket. She tried to leave the station, but the men saw her and headed towards her quickly, reaching into their coats...

Jordan tried to tell the woman behind the counter about the men, but she refused to believe him, accused him of stealing instead, and he was the one being dragged to the back of the store. The black coats followed...

The images faded suddenly, a bell ringing for the end of the lesson.

"Tomorrow we'll see if you can get out of these situations you've put yourselves in to," their teacher said, grinning.

...

Ginny stepped through the fireplace, brushing the soot from her robes briefly. She was utterly _exhausted_.

The final class of the day had been the lying and expressions one. It was much harder than she realised to tell a lie and not have her body respond each and every time. _She would just have to practice more_ , Ginny decided.

"George? Are you home?" she called, letting her hair loose as she wandered over to the kitchen.

Frowning when she saw that he wasn't in the kitchen, she called out again and looked through the rest of the apartment. Her frown deepened when Ginny realised that her brother was nowhere to be found.

She Apparated to the shop, only to find that it was locked up and closed for the night. Disapparating back to the apartment, Ginny saw an owl tapping at the window.

Letting it inside quickly, Ginny took the envelope from the bird's beak. The owl flew away immediately. Looked like she didn't need to reply to whatever it was... Sitting on the lounge, she opened the envelope and unfolded the note.

_Gin,_

_I'm at the Malfoy and Zabini Enterprise. Forgot to tell you that I'm presenting a proposal to them this afternoon. Could be big if they accept!_

_I'm not sure how long this'll take, so just go ahead and make dinner for yourself. I'll eat something before I come home._

_Lots of love,_

_Gred_.

For a few minutes, all Ginny could do was stare at the note. _This had to be some sort of prank George was pulling! He'd complained just last week how he didn't want the business to become any bigger because he'd need three extra heads just to sort through the paperwork. It definitely had to be a prank_...

Ginny tapped her wand to the note, murmuring spell after spell to show her if something was written beneath. When nothing showed up, she rummaged around in her bag for her Revealer to see if it was invisible ink.

There was nothing on the front of the parchment, but as she erased the other side, Ginny saw words forming. Pleased that she'd figured it out at the very least, she couldn't help but wonder where George had got invisible ink from. It was a very expensive liquid!

 _I've got no idea why I'm here any more than you do. And if you do know something, then tell me later, would you? It's very lush here, feel all out of sorts in my old sooty robes! The receptionist looked down at me, and she's a whole foot shorter than me! Like I said, don't worry about my dinner. I'll see you later. Take care Gin_.

Frowning, Ginny read the note two more times before she gave up completely. She couldn't think why George would be asked to go to Malfoy and Zabini Enterprises. _Unless it had something to do with Cloffice? Maybe Pansy was there? No, that didn't make sense. She and George were dating - or at least had been seen out in public together - why would Pansy need to see George there_?

Her exhaustion battered at her curiosity, and soon Ginny just decided to eat her dinner and go to sleep. She could ask George later.

...

Ginny waited for George, becoming more impatient with every passing second. While visiting Fred's grave didn't exactly have a scheduled time or appointment, she wanted to get there as soon as possible. George had promised to tell her why he'd gone to Malfoy and Zabini Enterprises when they were visiting Fred, and not a minute sooner. Annoyingly, he'd kept his word.

"George, hurry up!" Ginny called again.

"I only **just** got in the shower, Ginevra. Calm down already. I promised to tell you, and I will," George called back.

Muttering under her breath, Ginny sat on the piano stool, tapping her foot impatiently. She lifted the lid and ran her fingers along the keys lightly; too soft for any sound to emit. Aunt Muriel hadn't paid for Ginny to take piano lessons; since the teacher refused to see any more of "those Weasley children" she doubted it would have mattered if Aunt Muriel had offered anyway. Ginny placed her hands as she'd seen George do and pressed a few of the keys experimentally, as if she were playing in front of an audience.

No musical epiphany struck, no sudden and hidden talent revealed itself, and it sounded remarkably similar to Crookshanks when Ron had accidentally sat on him that time... Wincing at the horrible sound, Ginny stopped playing, shaking her head.

 _What had she expected, really? Even those born with natural talent still had to practice_!

"Were you killing a cat just now?" George called, leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Ginny hurried to close the lid. "No," she answered. "Hurry up already!"

Shaking his head, both to dry it and at his sister, George thought back to his unexpected meeting with Draco and Blaise. He wondered if Ginevra had any idea how enamoured they were with her...

"Are you ready yet?"

"I'm right here. Breathe a little, won't you?" George said, walking into the lounge as he buttoned his shirt.

Ginny just tapped her foot impatiently.

"How about you Side Apparate us today? Want to see how precisely you can do it," George said.

"Where do you want me to Apparate to then?"

"On top of Fred's grave," he replied, grinning.

"No! The last time you did that, we sunk into the ground because of the rain the night before. I'm _never_ doing that again!" Ginny said, shaking her head adamantly.

George grimaced. _He hadn't liked that experience any more than his sister_.

"Fine, then. Right next to the tombstone," he amended.

Ginny took his arm, steadied herself, and Apparated all in the same breath.

"Very good," George said, looking around.

They were standing right next to Fred's grave, as requested. Ginny was facing one way, while George faced the other. A precaution the Cloffice had drummed into her, and reiterated here without her really realising it. If you were Side Apparating anywhere, it was best to have each person facing a different way in order to scope out their surroundings quicker.

"Thank you," Ginny said, pleased with herself.

George's eyes narrowed, seeing something in the distance. _Or someone_...

"I forgot the basket. Be back in a minute," George said, Disapparating before he even finished his sentence.

Ginny looked down at Fred with a sigh. "I don't think he wants to tell me why he went to them, you know. Maybe it was just about work? But why wouldn't he have told me yet? No, it can't have been just work stuff... But then why didn't they talk to me?"

Groaning in annoyance at herself, Ginny sat next to Fred's tombstone, resting her head on it, just as she'd rested her head on his shoulder years before.

"I'm not going to think about it, or worry about it. I'll wait until George explains, yeah?" she murmured.

She grinned slightly when she imagined Fred's response: laughter.

"I will, you'll see."

Ginny checked her watch, frowning when she saw that George had been gone for almost five minutes. _Why on earth was George taking so long to get the basket?_ _He couldn't really be avoiding her this much, could he_? She decided to Apparate home if he hadn't arrived in another minute.

"All right, I won't. They have to have a reason for talking to George and not me, don't they?" Ginny muttered, trying to fill the time and take her mind off her brother's prolonged absence.

"Got it," George said, walking up the path with the basket, exactly forty-five seconds later.

Ginny frowned at her brother. "What took you so long? Why didn't you just Apparate back here?"

"And interrupt your heart-to-heart with Fred?" he retorted, grinning.

"What's that on your hand?" she asked, seeing drops of red on his hand.

"Sauce," he replied, wiping it on his shirt quickly.

"If that's sauce, then I'm going to be the next Minister of Magic," Ginny said, frowning at the red smear on his hand. She knew blood when she saw it, and that was _definitely_ blood.

"I'll tell you later, okay?" George said, almost pleading with her. When he saw that she wasn't appeased, he added, "Do you want to know why they owled me or not?"

Ginny's mouth snapped closed from whatever response she was going to give. _Damn him! Both blackmail and bribery all in the same sentence_...

"Fine. But you'd better tell me later."

George nodded quickly, relieved that she'd agreed. He knew he'd used underhanded tactics to make her agree, but it had been necessary.

Ginny opened the basket, pulling out the food while George brought out the Butterbeers. He placed a cooling spell on the bottles as Ginny opened the containers. They continued with their routine silently until it was all set up, as normal.

"First order of business, weekly news," George said.

"Nope, you tell me why you went to them first, then we'll get on with it," Ginny said sternly.

"Okay, but let me ask you this question first: why is it you're not using their names?"

Ginny faltered, realising that she hadn't said Draco or Blaise's names once out loud. _She didn't know why she wasn't, actually. Paranoia, maybe? She didn't want to be heard talking about them by the wrong people_? She narrowed her eyes at her brother. "Why aren't you?"

"Because other than them owling me, I have no reason to talk about them in public, let alone use their names to associate myself with them. And after what happened when I went to get the basket, I'm far more disinclined to," he added, cleaning his smeared hand with a handkerchief.

 _He'd have to give that to Pansy when he finished here_...

"Tell me what happened," Ginny implored, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I told you that I'd tell you later. Now, please, _stop asking_."

Ginny recoiled slightly at the tone in her brother's voice. She looked away and nodded briefly. If George couldn't talk about anything that had happened - _anything that was real, at least_ \- then she knew he had a reason. It was probably a good reason too. So Ginny pushed away her hurt at his tone, and conjured up the fake world she lived in...

The one outside of the Cloffice, the one away from Draco and Blaise. It was the world where she was a reporter for _The Quibbler_ and the most exciting thing she was going to do was attend the Malfoy Annual Ball. And perhaps something about the discovery of Snargles in Africa... Ginny looked back at George, a mask in place, and a broad fake smile on her face.

At that moment, George hated himself more than he ever had before. He knew that he had hurt his beloved, dearest sister, and he hated that he'd had to.

"First order of business... _The Quibbler_ want me to write an in-depth article about the Malfoy Annual Ball. No other reporter has been before, and it's all anyone can talk about. I've had people I don't even know come up to me and ask to go as my photographic representation! Half of them don't even know how to use a camera, I'm positive of it," Ginny said. "Even Luna seems excited about it, which is weird considering one of the field reporters found evidence of Snargles living in Africa."

George smiled a bit, starting with his own news. "I think I've found out how to expand the range for the _Spy-Sock_. Buttons... Combined with a notice-me-not spell, then no one will even know it's there."

"And how are you going to put a button on someone without them noticing?"

"Use a sticking charm that lasts for 24 hours," George replied.

"That could work," Ginny said, genuinely excited for him. "How are you going to test it?"

"I've already got a couple of volunteers," he replied off-handedly.

"Willing?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

"Of course! What sort of prankster do you take me for?" George asked dramatically, his hand over his heart.

"A nefarious one," she said, grinning.

"Oh, big word from Little-Miss-Reporter!" he said with a chuckle, grabbing his Butterbeer.

If Ginny noticed his hand shaking, she didn't say anything.

...

The moment they arrived back home, Ginny's mask faded and she turned to her brother, glaring. "If you don't willingly tell me what the fuck is going on, I swear, I'll **_make_** you talk."

George just raised his eyebrow at Ginny, unperturbed by her threat. She had no idea what he'd gone through at Cloffice - what she still had yet to go through. "I need to report to Pansy, and then I'll tell you. Won't be long," he quipped, Disapparating before she could say or do anything.

Ginny let out a frustrated scream. They'd stayed with Fred for almost three hours, and while she got better at perfecting her mask over that time, her annoyance increased dramatically. _She'd have to work on that more_...

Pulling off her scarf and all but throwing it across the living room, Ginny went to her room to change, muttering along the way.

When Ginny returned to the living room ten minutes later, and George still hadn't returned, she sighed and went to pick up her scarf. It was a nice scarf, and she shouldn't have taken out her frustration quite so childishly. But it didn't stop her from muttering a bit more anyway.

Picking up the long grey length of material, Ginny noticed a small circle on the floor. Frowning, she threw her scarf over to the lounge, moving down to inspect the circle properly. _She'd seen one of these before, hadn't she_?

Letting out a small gasp when she realised what it was, Ginny sat up quickly. _Why on earth did George have a recording device in his living room_? That thought was followed by another one; _where else did he have these devices set up_?

...

"Sorry to disturb you on the weekend, Pansy," George said, as the house elf showed him into her study.

"Not a problem. I assume this is about work, and not a social visit?" Pansy asked, looking up at him.

"Unfortunately," he replied, grinning slightly.

"Very well... What's happened?"

"You were right. Someone has been monitoring our movement. I don't know whether it's focused on me or Ginevra, but I'm sure we'll know in the next 24 hours," George said, placing a button in front of her. "I got a sample of his blood, and he became the newest test subject for the spy buttons," he said, grinning.

"And the blood sample?"

George pulled out a handkerchief and put it next to the button. "It wasn't much, but I'm hoping it will be enough to find him."

"We'll find out soon enough... What were his characteristics?"

George rattled off the average height, weight, hair colour, and any defining features of the man.

"You fought him, yet he got away?" Pansy asked.

"I managed to catch him by surprise long enough to get the blood sample, but then he threw a rock at me and Disapparated. It was a very heavy rock," he added when Pansy looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"And Ginevra? Did she see anything?"

"No, she just thought I'd gone to get the picnic basket."

"Will you be telling her? It may influence her decision whether to stay with Cloffice or not," Pansy warned him when he nodded.

"I'm more worried about it influencing her opinion of me," George muttered, rubbing his head.

"Well, be careful. She cannot know too much before the proper time."

George nodded solemnly. "I know." He grinned suddenly, looking at her. "What are you doing this week?"

"Besides running the country behind closed doors? Not much, why?"

"We should go out for dinner again. A date, I mean. Without any interruptions this time."

Pansy regarded him for a moment. Despite talking more often than they had, they hadn't tried to go on a date since the last attempt, which Potter had ruined.

"All right. I'm free Wednesday night. You can pick me up at nine."

"I'll pick you up at eight," George replied, grinning.

He Disapparated before she could argue, and Pansy shook her head with a smile. She knew that come Wednesday night, she would prolong how her preparations so they'd leave at nine, and he'd arrive at seven-thirty to try and get her to leave at eight. In the end, they'd both be ready to go at eight-thirty... _Just like old times_.

...

"Gin? I'm back," George called, wary as to why she wasn't waiting in the living room to bombard him with questions. He walked through the apartment to find Ginny sitting on her bed, staring at the floor.

"How long have you had them, George?"

Her question surprised him, and he followed her gaze to the small circle on the floor. No one usually noticed the circles on the floor, and unless they were looking for them, the small discs barely registered in people's minds.

"Since I moved in," he replied casually, leaning against the doorframe. "It's compulsory to have them after graduating from the Cloffice," he added, knowing that she'd want to know why.

"Why? So they can keep track of what you do?" Ginny asked, looking up at him now.

"It's a precaution of the paranoid, Gin. Sometimes people get through the training for the Cloffice, but are soon found to be working for ... others," he finished cryptically. "The recordings are collected by those in the Cloffice's employment at various times, so not even I know when they're coming, or what they'll see," George said, shrugging.

"You mean they can come in here whenever they like?"

"Of course. It's no worse than house elves coming into your room every night at Hogwarts."

"They came to **clean** , not to steal information about me!"

"So I'll leave a note to ask them to tidy up for you then... And how do you know the house elves didn't take information about you?" he asked, folding his arms. "When we went to the kitchens, they always knew your favourite drink, even though you'd never told them, didn't they? And you can't say that they knew what you drank at the Great Hall," George added.

Ginny wanted to reply with something scathing, but as she thought back over the years, over the numerous trips to the kitchens, she realised that he was right.

"It's still an invasion of privacy," she muttered, rubbing her arms.

"I'll be in the lounge room when you're ready," George said, leaving her sitting on her bed.

He knew he should feel more sympathetic towards her - _he'd felt just as violated when he'd first found out_ \- but after the things he'd seen, the people he'd regarded as friends turning and trying to kill him, well... he'd come to see the necessity of it. Unfortunately, Ginevra would too.

George didn't have to wait long until Ginny came out of her room. She didn't look pleased, but her curiosity over Draco and Blaise's invitation to George, as well as what had happened at the cemetery, overtook any other feelings at the moment.

"Draco and Blaise first, or the cemetery?"

"Cemetery," Ginny replied, sitting on the armchair and wrapping her scarf around her shoulders.

"When we arrived - good Side Apparation, by the way, keeping us back to back," he acknowledged with a nod, "I saw someone watching us in the distance. I got the basket, as I said I would, and Apparated to where that person was. I scratched him, got blood on my hand, we had a bit of a tussle, and he Disapparated before I could do anything else," George replied.

Ginny looked at her brother with a frown. She could tell that he wasn't telling her everything- the matter-of-fact tone he was using to all but list what had happened was evidence enough of that. She wondered if he was protecting her by not telling her everything, or if he was hiding something else.

"Did you kill him?" she asked, watching carefully.

"No, of course not. Can't get information from a dead man," George said.

 _Well, not very well, at least_ , he added silently.

Relaxing slightly, Ginny nodded, satisfied for the moment. "What about Draco and Blaise?"

George seemed surprised that she'd let him off so easily, but hurried to answer before she changed her mind. "They called me there to talk about you, actually. The Cloffice teaches us a lot of ... different techniques, but none are about how to woo a woman for something other than sex or information," he said, grinning. "They wanted to ask me about things you liked, and such, so they can woo you properly."

As Ginny watched him talk, she noticed that he kept his wand pointed firmly at the circle on the floor. _Was he blocking the recording of their conversation? Did he not want the Cloffice to hear about her relationship with Draco and Blaise? Or was it just a coincidence that he was holding his wand in that particular way_?

"Shouldn't they be asking Dad..." Ginny trailed off, thinking of the reality of that happening. She sincerely doubted Draco and Blaise would go to the Burrow to talk to her father, let alone Arthur agreeing to their relationship in the first place. "Yeah, never mind."

George just grinned. "They're quite smitten with you, Miss Weasley," he said.

Ginny resisted the urge to blush under her brother's scrutinising look. "So they called you there to ask about me, and that's it?"

"Well, that and they want me to introduce you to them in public. Also, they've offered funding for more products like the spy buttons," George replied, grinning.

"I'm being whored out for buttons?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrow at him. She couldn't stop from smiling though.

"No! That's a separate thing entirely," he said, rolling his eyes at her, but pleased that she was smiling.

"It's good that you got the funding though, isn't it?" she asked a moment later.

"Yeah, it is good. I'll be able to employ someone to help out at the shop while I work on new products..."

Their conversation continued long into the night, long after Ginny stopped looking at the circles on the floor. It was only when Ginny started to doze off in the middle of her sentence that George realised the time. He ushered Ginny off to her room with stern advice to take a sleeping potion so she could get a proper night's rest in the few hours she had left before her new week at Cloffice.

Only when she was gone did George let his wand point elsewhere in the room.

...

End of the fifteenth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

"Now, I've been told that you've all done well in your spells and enchantments classes," their instructor said.

 

She'd introduced herself as Catarina, but was better known as Kitty. It wasn't any surprise to Ginny that the woman taught the Animagus class.

 

"I hope that it's the truth, because for the next two hours, you're going to become Animagi," Kitty said with a feral smile.

 

A cold feeling washed over Ginny as she looked at Kitty's expression. It usually took weeks, sometimes months, of training to become an Animagus! _And they were expected to do it in two_ ** _hours_**?

 

The spell itself wasn't entirely complex, but the ability to keep one's concentration while performing the spell was definitely much harder. Bones shifting, organs squeezing, skin melting, eyes burning, every nerve ending and cell on fire and freezing, and everything else trying to do what it was never meant to do all at the same time? It was no wonder there were only twenty or so registered Animagi in the wizarding world!

 

"If we're going to become Animagi, don't we need to register?" Ginny asked, feeling stupid the moment the question left her mouth.

 

Kitty smiled, as if humouring her. "You're training in a secret organisation within the Ministry, what do you think?"

 

Ginny bristled slightly at her tone and smile, but nodded briefly.

 

They were taken through the steps required to do the spell, and how to clear their minds in order to complete the transformation.

 

Ginny was called on first to attempt the spell. She wondered if it was punishment for asking her question earlier. Kitty stood in front of her, watching as she began the spell and concentrated.

 

Her skin stretched and shrank at the same time; her lungs were burning with a lack of air as they became smaller; one of her eyes began to change shape and Kitty's face loomed oddly in her vision; her legs wobbled beneath her, making her fall on her hands; then her hands began to change, and it felt like her arms were on fire. Then her entire body followed suit, and everything burned.

 

Ginny would have screamed if she could. Her vocal chords were shortening or lengthening, she wasn't sure, but she knew that no sound came out of her mouth. She began to panic at the feelings and burning. She was going to die. She couldn't keep her concentration, the spell began to waver in her mind. She was going to die, half-formed and horrible. She had to stop it. She had to get back. She couldn't do this. Her brain drummed against her skull, every thump sending her panicked state further into fear and desperation.

 

Suddenly, a magic flowed through her, and Ginny opened her eyes to find herself curled on the floor, her fingers digging into her skull.

 

"Sit up. There you go," Kitty's voice murmured, caressing her hair gently to soothe her.

 

Ginny did as she said, trembling. She looked at her body, thankful and disappointed at the same time to find that she was still human. She was silent as she accepted the large piece of chocolate from Kitty.

 

"You did well until you panicked. Try to relax, and you can try again after the others," Kitty said.

 

Ginny nodded, unable or unwilling to move from the mat.

 

Morrigan was called on next. She looked at Ginny, her face pale with terror, before returning her attention to Kitty in front of her.

 

Ginny couldn't bring herself to watch, the feelings all too clear in her mind. She shivered slightly when she thought of going through that again. She looked to the door, wondering if anyone would notice if she ran from the room.

 

 _Don't be stupid_ , a little voice in her mind muttered. _Firstly, you can Apparate out of here silently. Remember all of that training you did? Yeah, there's a reason for it... Secondly, there's recording discs in every room, and you can bet your meagre pay that they're watching every single thing you do. Third, and final point, you're an idiot if you think you're going to stop this now. You really want to leave, have to forget about all of this, and then lose whatever relationship you've got with Draco and Blaise? Yeah, I didn't think so_.

 

Ginny scowled slightly. She hated when that little voice was right. _Stupid practical voice_ , she thought to herself, looking at the small recording disc on the floor.

 

 _Sub-conscience, actually. And you'd do well to listen to me more often. You can be stupid when you're not thinking_.

 

Ginny started slightly when Morrigan collapsed beside her, trembling. It seemed that she hadn't got much further than Ginny had. Kitty gave her chocolate, comforted her softly, and then called on Jordan.

 

Minutes later, Jordan was joining them on the mat, collapsing into shivers. Morrigan waited until Kitty had called on Claudia to wrap her arm around Jordan's shoulders, calming him quickly.

 

Ginny looked away from them, and watched Claudia's transformation. It was hideous, everything stretching and shrinking at the same time. She wondered if Claudia would still do this if knew what she looked like. There was a squishing sort of noise, and a heartbeat later, Claudia had turned into her Animagus form.

 

 _That was quick_... Ginny wasn't sure if that comment was her or her sub-conscience.

 

The butterfly was larger than most, and the body was a blonde strip, similar to the colour of Claudia's hair. Kitty instructed Claudia to fly, and they all watched as a few flaps of the fragile wings had the creature in the air, hovering in front of Kitty's face.

 

"Excellent work, Claudia. Now, land and return to your human form," Kitty said, directing her back to the mat.

 

Again, a few minutes passed before Claudia returned to her normal self, her body too weak to stay upright. She trembled and breathed heavily as she tried to gather enough oxygen for her now-larger lungs. Chocolate was produced, and then Ginny was called on again.

 

Clearing her mind, Ginny got to the same stage of the spell, pushing her own mind past her worry and fear. _She had to get this right_. Somewhere, possibly at a further stage, she could hear her sub-conscience guiding her and encouraging her.

 

 _Come on, almost there. A few more deep breaths. That's it. Almost done. Now, last part of the spell. Shout it_!

 

Ginny shouted the last of the spell with all of her might, her body completing the last of the transformation.

 

A booming sound rang in her ears, sensitive from the transformation. Ginny cried out at the pain and huddled into a ball.

 

The sound came again, softer this time, and it took Ginny some time to realise that the sounds were actually words. She opened her eyes, blinking hesitantly. She looked up at Kitty, a question in her voice. The sound that came out of her mouth was definitely not human, and Ginny trembled. She could feel the animal side of her brain warring with her human side. The sounds came once more, and Ginny took a moment to understand what Kitty was saying.

 

"Try to walk to me."

 

Ginny tried to stand as if she was human, failing to realise that she had four legs rather than two. She promptly fell down.

 

"Isn't she cute?" Morrigan's voice whispered loudly.

 

Ginny managed to look down at her arms. Legs, actually. _She had paws_! Four toes, but as she tried to flex her paw, she knew instinctively that she had a toe on her leg.

 

She was distracted quickly by the sounds and smells that assaulted her ears and snout. Oh, she had a snout. _And was that ravioli for lunch_? She could hear the squeaking sound of people walking on each level. _Oh, and that smell... Another of her kind had been here! Or was it two?_ She sniffed gingerly, trying to discern between the two smells.

 

Another sound, a voice, an instruction, had Ginny looking back up at Kitty. She yapped slightly.

 

"Walk, Ginevra."

 

Moving up onto her hind legs, Ginny yelped in excitement and confusion when she saw she had a tail. _A tail, yay_!

 

 _No, she had to concentrate_. _Concentrate, concentrate, and walk forward_. She began to do so slowly, working out the movement of each leg and paw.

 

Kitty guided her to the end wall, transfiguring it into a mirror. Ginny came closer, wary of this new animal, despite knowing on some level that it was her own reflection.

 

A fox stared back at her, a coat of deep red that was similar to her hair. As she moved in the light, Ginny could see tiny spots covering her, the lighter red dots reminiscent of her freckles.

 

She mewled gently, the other fox making the same motion too. She swiped at it, the creature swiping it's paw back at her. She tried to run at the animal to play, but hands grabbed her, and she yelped in alarm as the other fox disappeared and she was lifted off the floor.

 

Kitty settled Ginny back on the mat, and instructed her to return to her human form.

 

Ginny mewled pitifully. _She wanted to play_!

 

 _Come on, you can play later. Concentrate now, and do as instructed_.

 

Ginny yapped slightly, annoyed at the practical voice. _Why didn't it want to play too_?

 

 _Later, Ginny. Come on already_.

 

Shaking herself out, Ginny stood on all four paws and began to change. _Mean old voice_.

 

She took her time, concentrating past the pain and odd sensations, making sure she did each thing right. Minutes later, Ginny was on her hands and knees on the mat, gasping for air.

 

"Congratulations. Good idea on going slower; it helps to control the transformation. Have some chocolate, and later, you can work on changing different parts so it's smoother," Kitty said, handing her a row of chocolate.

 

Ginny thanked her, her voice a bit raspy, and sat back to watch Morrigan.

 

It took some time, but Morrigan managed to transform into an animal as well. She was a dormouse, and seemed to take pleasure in running around in hectic circles. She changed back faster than Ginny had, her body a mass of trembling and shivers as she started to go into shock. Jordan made sure that she would be all right before attempting his own transformation again.

 

Within minutes, a young husky dog was on the ground. He got to his feet quicker than Ginny had, and was soon running in circles after his tail. He sniffed along the mat, nudging a wet nose against Morrigan's robes. She smiled and patted him gently. Jordan growled slightly when Kitty picked him up.

 

Ginny tried not to grin when she saw that Kitty was holding the dog at arm's length.

 

Jordan transformed back slowly, dropping to the mat between Morrigan and Ginny.

 

"Are you all right?" Morrigan asked softly as Ginny went up for another turn.

 

He grinned and nodded, chewing on a piece of chocolate. Jordan took her hand, grinning again when she blushed.

 

Ginny hid her own grin and concentrated on her transformation.

 

...

 

As he was busy with a potion that required his attention, George answered the firecall before he looked to see who it was. Subsequently, he was halfway through his ' _thank you for calling Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, how may I encourage your misdeeds?_ ' speech before he realised that Pansy was on the other end, watching him with a faintly amused expression.

 

"Sorry, Pansy. Give me about ... two minutes?" he said, glancing to the clock on the wall.

 

"Very well," she murmured, sitting back in her chair and watching him patiently.

 

George couldn't rush this potion. One failed ingredient, one wrong stir, and the whole thing could blow up in his face. He normally wouldn't mind the explosion - he enjoyed being able to hear something loud with his right ear now and then - but he'd been working on this damned potion for nearly three hours now, and George wasn't one to waste his own time if he could help it.

 

Finally, the last potion ingredient was added to the cauldron, and he turned to face Pansy once more, giving her a smile.

 

"What can I do for you?"

 

George silently hoped that she wasn't calling to cancel their date tomorrow night.

 

"Firstly, I'd like you to do something for me. I'll need a batch of those spy buttons as soon as you can make them up," Pansy said.

 

"So it's working all right then? Can you hear his 's's clearly, or do they still sound like 'th's?" George asked, stepping closer with an excited grin.

 

"No lisp has been recorded, so I would presume that he is pronouncing the letter 's' correctly," Pansy said, smiling briefly when she saw the excited light in George's eyes, even through the flames.

 

"Oh good, I had trouble with that, you know. Changed a couple of ingredients here and there, I swear it was because I had snake skin as well as squid ink. Too many s's," George muttered, turning and noting something on a pad of parchment that had been nailed to the wall. (Fred's idea, actually. The amount of lost scraps of brilliant ideas they'd gone through in the first month alone. Probably cost themselves hundreds of Sickles, if not Galleons, and Fred had put a spell on the parchment and quill to keep it up on the wall. The sickening realisation after his twin's death when both items were laying on the floor, the magic no longer there. He'd kept them on the floor for a week before redoing the spell himself.)

 

Pansy waited until George had finished and turned back to her. "The second thing I'd like is for you to come to my office when you have a spare moment. The blood sample is still being processed, but I have photographs of people matching the description you gave me; it may be of some use," she said.

 

George looked at the potion's instructions, despite knowing them all off by heart. He never was one to do a complicated potion like this without memorising every minute detail of what had to happen.

 

"I've got the next forty-five minutes to spare. But I've got to come back straight away," George added.

 

"Of course," Pansy said, standing and opening her grate for him to step through.

 

George set his Alarm Quill and walked through the flames into Pansy's office.

 

...

 

Ginny looked at the table before her. She recognised most of the Muggle weapons due to George's phase of watching Muggle action movies. Although, now that she thought about it, that phase was probably at the same time he was training in Cloffice.

 

"Now, pick up a weapon of your choice. Load it, as I've just shown you, and fire at your target."

 

Her eyes flicked ahead to the silhouettes on paper, and Ginny tried to repress her shiver as she stepped forward to take a gun. The weapon was cold in her hand, and she tried not to think of anything as she loaded the individual bullets into the cylinder.

 

She kept her feet apart, as previously instructed, to ensure that the recoil wouldn't blow her off balance. Keeping her eyes on the target, Ginny took a deep breath, made sure that she had a clear shot, and squeezed the trigger once.

 

"Again."

 

Ginny steadied herself once more. Despite the positioning of her feet, she'd still moved back slightly. At least she'd hit the paper, unlike Claudia who had shrieked loudly and dropped the gun as fast as the bullet had left the barrel. Taking another deep breath, Ginny looked at the target again and took her shot.

 

This time, she actually hit the black shape on the paper. Probably closer to the groin than the chest, but it was still a hit nonetheless.

 

"Again."

 

Another shot, a bit higher this time, but off to the side.

 

"Again."

 

Towards the end, Ginny realised that she was a bit more confident with the weapon in her hand, but by no means cocky about it. Ginny knew that those pieces of paper represented people, and if she was practicing to wound, maim, or kill them now, then she might have to do so outside of training. It was a sobering thought, one that she kept in her mind with each shot, and every different weapon she picked up.

 

When they were all out of bullets, they were instructed to take apart and reassemble every single weapon they had used. Apparently, it was usually done in the opposite way, in order to get the marksman (or woman) to appreciate what went in to creating their weapon. Here, however, they needed to see if they could actually use the weapon before attempting to dismantle it.

 

"Again."

 

...

 

Ginny rubbed her arm gently, worrying at the mark the burn had left. They'd done basic potions after lunch, something that Morrigan sped through easily, but Ginny had slightly more trouble with. She hadn't needed to make a potion for the past four years, and her baking skills weren't quite up to scratch, considering Molly did all of the cooking. It wasn't that she'd _forgotten_ how to cut up potion ingredients - Ginny still wasn't certain that there was a wrong way, really - but apparently, the length of each individual ingredient was imperative to the potion working correctly. She'd barely scraped a pass for her potion, and had been instructed to practice more at home. (Ginny didn't dare tell the instructor that she didn't currently own a cauldron...)

 

To make matters worse, the burn mark had come from Claudia absolutely screwing up her potion and having it explode all over the bloody laboratory! The other burns were more or less gone with a few spells, but the one on her arm had been rather large, and her arm-hair would take some time to grow back.

 

The class after that had seemed to make the last one even worse. Where Claudia had been all but rubbish at potion making, the skill of emotional manipulation was one she seemed to excel at. It was more advanced than the previous Training Centre's final week, so they were learning more subtle ways to entice or cajole answers out of people.

 

Ginny had been moments behind Morrigan to leave that last class, although Jordan had soon gone after Morrigan. Ginny had watched as he took her hand, and had longed for someone to just hold her hand or hug her. Not even Harry had done that when they'd been together - he'd said he didn't like public displays of affection ( _don't think about ice cream and Cho Chang_ ) - and her thoughts had wandered towards Draco and Blaise. Since she'd stayed in the shooting gallery, Ginny hadn't seen them at lunch, though she had sent a paper plane before lunch had finished. She still hadn't heard back, and she wondered if she'd upset them in some way.

 

With a sigh, Ginny Flooed to her office at _The Quibbler_ , brushing off the soot as she stepped out of the fireplace. The first thing she noticed was the smell. A fragrant smell of fresh flowers met her, and the moment Ginny looked up, she saw why. Every surface in her office was covered in flowers. And not just any flowers, but blue roses, her favourite.

 

For a moment, all she could do was stand and stare. Ginny bit her tongue slightly, uncertain as to whether this was some weird dream she'd been put under at Cloffice. It didn't seem like it...

 

Moving closer, Ginny looked at the magically-enhanced roses carefully, but couldn't find a note. She touched one of the rosebuds gently, suddenly worried that this really was a dream, and anything she did could make it disappear at any moment.

 

"You like them, right?" Draco's voice murmured in her ear.

 

She spun quickly, embarrassed that she hadn't heard him approaching her.

 

"Geez, Draco. You can't handle suspense very well, can you?" Blaise muttered.

 

"Like you were any calmer, waiting back there," he retorted, smirking.

 

Blaise ignored him, focusing his attention on Ginevra instead. "You do like them, don't you? George said that they're your fav..." he began, his words cut off by Ginny's mouth on his.

 

"Again? Why is he _always_ first?" Draco muttered.

 

"Stop complaining, or I won't let her kiss you at all," Blaise replied, kissing her between each word.

 

Draco went to say something, but was stopped by a kiss as well. Ginny's lips curved into a smile as she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him closer to her.

 

"Apology accepted," Draco murmured when they pulled away.

 

"Thank you for the roses," Ginny murmured, turning to look at them again.

 

"You're most welcome," Blaise said with a wink and bow.

 

"Where on earth did you get this many? Even regular roses aren't in season," she murmured, her fingers touching a few of the blue petals.

 

"Mother has a special greenhouse that lets her grow roses all year round. Though, I've never seen a blue lot before; I think she'd like those," Draco added, grinning.

 

"Then buy Narcissa her own bunch of blue roses. These are Ginevra's," Blaise said, putting his arm around her waist.

 

She tried not to moan when his hand started to caress her hip. _Gods damn her hormones_! She thought she'd outgrown this stage of wanting to rip guy's robes off and shag them silly on the floor before she even knew them. Ginny would have told herself to get under control, but her mind decided to elaborate on her previous thought with great detail.

 

"Ginevra? Are you all right?" Draco asked, frowning at her in concern.

 

She bit her lip and nodded, realising that she'd been daydreaming for a bit too long.

 

"Right, we've got to get going. If we don't go, then you're going to be late for dinner," Blaise said, letting go of her.

 

Ginny frowned when she saw the time. "It's only eight thirty. I don't have dinner 'til nine," she protested, already missing the warmth of his arm around her waist.

 

"Let me rephrase for him. If we don't leave now, we're going to forget all about wooing and courting you, and just shag you senseless," Draco said, smirking as he looked her over.

 

Ginny wasn't sure if she minded that at all. Swallowing slightly, she reminded herself that she was an adult. _And she at least wanted to get to know them a bit better before jumping into bed with them_! Although, she would admit that it was nice to know that she wasn't the only one affected.

 

She forced herself to kiss them briefly, and then pushed both Draco and Blaise in the direction of the fireplace.

 

"See you tomorrow," Ginny said, smiling.

 

Blaise did another flourished bow, stepping back into the green flames with a wink. Draco rolled his eyes, winked at her, and then followed Blaise out.

 

When Ginny arrived home with a pot of blue roses, George wisely stayed silent, and just grinned at his sister knowingly.

 

...

 

Ginny felt nervous, she recognised all of the symptoms easily enough, but it didn't do much to alleviate the feeling.

 

"You need to stop pacing the floor, Gin-bug. You'll wear a hole in the floorboards," George murmured as he sat back on his haunches. "There, that's the last one."

 

"You're sure Pansy was okay with you changing the settings of the recording discs?"

 

"I'm sure. It seems that Messrs Malfoy and Zabini were worried about the consequences you would go through if tonight was recorded."

 

"And they're not going to be logged on the Floo?"

 

"Pansy already set up a secure Floo in order for me to get to her house, it was just a matter of lengthening the shortage at the Ministry so that Draco and Blaise weren't seen either."

 

Ginny nodded, starting to pace once more. She hadn't even meant to ask Draco and Blaise over for dinner, hadn't even thought of the consequences, let alone how they could actually get to her apartment without it being seen or recorded.

 

They'd been with her in the shooting gallery during lunch, they'd been alone, and since they'd seen the recording disc on the floor, they'd stayed an appropriate distance away from each other. That had only seemed to make it worse, and Ginny's blurted question about dinner was hidden by a series of shots by Draco. She'd been positive that they hadn't heard her, but then later, as they were walking Ginny to her next class, Blaise had whispered the answer in her ear under cover of the crowd's noise.

 

George stood up, brushing the dirt off his knees, and turning to face his sister. "You still haven't said how I look," he said, his arms splayed as he turned around with a grin.

 

"You look great, George. I didn't know you had a blue suit; thought it was only your brown one?"

 

"I'll have you know that I own plenty of suits... Whether I choose to wear them or not is another matter entirely," he said with a wink.

 

The clock chimed half past seven, and behind him, the fireplace turned green with a sudden burst.

 

Blaise stepped out of the flames calmly, brushing non-existent soot from his shoulders. There was another burst of green, and Draco followed him out.

 

"Have a good time, Ginevra. Don't stay up too late, and on that note, don't wait up for me," George called with a grin.

 

One more flash of green, and George disappeared, leaving Ginny standing and staring at Draco and Blaise.

 

They were both wearing black pants and shoes, and where Draco was wearing a white shirt (loosely buttoned, damn him), Blaise was wearing a dark green one. She was sure that their shirts were pure silk. On their arms were their robes.

 

"We weren't sure how formal or casual the dinner was going to be," Blaise said, sounding a bit nervous as Ginny continued to stare.

 

 _Hello in there? Answer him already_! the voice in her mind startled Ginny out of her stupor.

 

"No, what you're wearing is fine," she said quickly, smiling.

 

"May I say, you look lovely," Draco said, moving to kiss her hand.

 

Ginny was surprised that he thought so; she was wearing a fairly casual (and definitely not silk) shirt and pants. She figured that since they'd seen her sweaty and fairly unkempt before, they wouldn't mind if she'd dressed a bit casually.

 

Some bells and whistles started sounding, and for a moment, Ginny had to wonder if they were in her head. She frowned slightly, knowing that couldn't be right, and realised that it was coming from the kitchen.

 

"If you wouldn't mind taking a seat, I'll bring dinner over," Ginny said quickly, wondering exactly how formal she was meant to be with them.

 

She should have greeted her guests, taken their coats, shown them to the dining table (she didn't know why, it was in the same room), offered them drinks before dining...

 

 _Oh, please. If you_ ** _were_** _acting like that, they'd think you're just trying to practice for Cloffice, and they'd go along with it. You'd all be bored with the pleasant atmosphere and they'd leave at the appropriate time, and you'd kick yourself later. Calm down, and just have dinner_.

 

Ginny took a deep breath, calming herself, and grabbed the tea towel to take the trays of food from the oven. _She wasn't sure if she hated or loved it when she was right_.

 

"Need any help?" Blaise asked, leaning against the doorway.

 

She looked at him with a grin. "You want to serve up dinner?" she asked, holding out the spoon to him.

 

He laughed, moving towards her with a shake of his head. His arms wrapped around her and she felt her heartbeat quicken.

 

"I was thinking that I could pour the wine instead," Blaise said, moving back with a smirk and the bottle in his hands.

 

Ginny laughed, waving him away with the spoon. She tried to calm her racing heart, and continued to serve up dinner.

 

...

 

"I thought I said eight, Pansy?" George said with a grin.

 

"It's not even eight yet," she called back, repressing her own grin.

 

"Well, I can't help it if I'm excited and arrived early, can I?"

 

Pansy pulled a dress over her head, straightening the material around her body. She smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles, and slipped a cardigan on without looking at her scarred arms.

 

"You okay, Pansy?" George asked, knocking on the door gently.

 

"Fine. Won't be a moment," she replied, sitting on the chaise to put her heels on.

 

Stockings covered the scars on her legs, and there was a permanent spell in all of her left shoes to help her walk straight. Standing, Pansy left her changing room and back into her bedroom. George was sitting on one of the lounges in front of her fireplace, tossing what looked like a ball between his hands. When he saw her, he hurried to stand, slipping the ball into his pocket quickly.

 

"I'm sure I've told you not to throw it around like that. It's very expensive to get replaced, you know," she muttered, her arms folded.

 

"Sorry, force of habit," he replied sheepishly.

 

"Let me see it, make sure you haven't damaged it," she said sternly, holding her hand out.

 

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" George said, grinning as he handed the ball to her.

 

Pansy tapped her wand to it gently. The ball cracked around the top, and there was a tiny whirring noise as the top flipped back. A bright white light shone from the hole, and she looked down at it. The portable Pensieve was a rare product, and while George was attempting to recreate the item for Cloffice, there were a limited number of the ball-like objects left in the world, and most of those were handed down within families.

 

"They seem to be fine. At least try to be more careful with it, would you?" she asked, handing it back.

 

"I am careful with it. Usually," he amended with a grin. "You look lovely, as always... Shall we?" George asked, offering his arm to her.

 

Pansy took his arm, and they disappeared.

 

...

 

"Now, Blaise skinny dipping is usually something I'm all for, but you should have heard the screaming!" Draco said, grinning.

 

Across from him, Blaise had his head in his hands and Ginny was almost positive that he was trying to curse Draco without his wand. She was glad she'd told them about the recording discs having their settings changed; they'd been very formal when they'd been under the impression that the discs were recording them.

 

"But then, it **was** a public swimming pool!"

 

Ginny laughed when Blaise glared over at Draco. It seemed he was trying to get his revenge on Blaise for telling Ginny about the drinking contest in Russia.

 

"It's not my fault you hexed me and I didn't know that, was it?" Blaise asked, pointing his fork at Draco.

 

"You shouldn't have stripped in public, no matter what I told you," he replied with a smirk.

 

Blaise returned to his mutterings, and Ginny started laughing all over again.

 

"Thank you for dinner, Ginevra. It was lovely," Draco said charmingly.

 

"You're welcome," she replied when she'd settled down.

 

"You know, I think we're missing an embarrassing story from one Miss Ginevra Weasley," Blaise said, placing his fork on his plate and wiping his mouth with the napkin.

 

"Why, Blaise, I think you're right," Draco said.

 

"I don't have any embarrassing stories," she said, her eyes wide with innocence.

 

"Doubtful, Ginevra."

 

"You've got to have _one_."

 

Standing, she took their empty plates to the kitchen. "Unfortunately, gentlemen, I still don't have one," she called over her shoulder with a grin.

 

Blaise and Draco looked to each other, immediately standing and following her to the kitchen counter.

 

"Now, I think you're lying."

 

"Oh, I don't know about that, lover. She might be as perfect as she's alluding to."

 

"I never said I was perfect. I just said I don't have any embarrassing stories about my life."

 

Embarrassing stories were severely limited, and mostly involved the twins, when Fred was still alive, and long before Hogwarts. There were other stories, of course... Stories of darkness, waking in the middle of the night, long after Voldemort stopped possessing her, and the screams that she couldn't distinguish between her own or from her dreams. Stories of being alone, of being talked about behind her back, of the scared looks, the hushed conversations, the cruel pranks that her roommates had pulled on her at Hogwarts, and then the war and subsequent Death Eater takeover... Now **_those_** stories she had an abundance of.

 

"Not even something from when you were young?"

 

"Putting your mother's wand in a bowl of punch?"

 

"Setting your robes on fire by staying in the Floo too long?"

 

"Pelting Ministry officials with grapes to see how long it would take for them to crack?"

 

They kept listing things, some were ones that seemed typical of any magical household, while others were plain ridiculous. She was laughing before long, and had to lean on the sink to stay steady.

 

While she was preoccupied with her laughter, Draco moved to her silently, resting his hands on her shoulders. Ginny's laughter stopped immediately, and she looked at him, still smiling and her eyes bright.

 

"Since dinner's over, can we kiss you now?"

 

Her smile got bigger and Ginny nodded. She moved up slightly to kiss him properly, her arms winding around his neck. Draco seemed to sigh in relief, his hands slipping down her shoulders to rest on her hips. Realising that Blaise was still standing in the doorway, Ginny crooked her finger for him to join them. Not even a second later, his hands joined Draco's on her hips as he kissed and licked Ginny's fingers gently. Draco's moved behind her, squeezing her arse. She gasped slightly when they lifted her effortlessly onto the counter.

 

They'd all forgotten that Ginny had been standing in front of the sink, and she fell into the basin when they moved their hands away. She burst out laughing when she saw the expression on their faces.

 

Blaise and Draco stared as Ginny sat in the sink, laughing. They grinned and tried to help her out, but her laughter had seemed to wedge her in further.

 

"I'm _stuck_?" Ginny said, her laughter stopping quickly.

 

She tried to wriggle free, falling further down still. Her legs started to ache from the awkward position.

 

"I'll get my wand," Blaise said, hurrying back to the table.

 

"Well," Draco said brightly, a smirk forming, "you've got an embarrassing story to tell now!"

 

"That's true... If I could actually tell anyone about it," she added with a brief glare.

 

"You can tell us as many times as you'd like," Blaise said, moving to her with his wand drawn.

 

"What spell are you going to do?" Ginny wasn't overly proud to hear that her voice came out like a terrified squeak.

 

"I was thinking an engorgement charm on the tub," he replied, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring.

 

"You can't do that; you'll make all of the plumbing bigger and we'll either be drenched in water, or I'll have to replace the entire sink."

 

"I wouldn't mind being drenched in water," Draco said, smirking.

 

"Well, what spell do you suggest?" Blaise asked, ignoring Draco's lewd comment.

 

"How about something that'll make it slippery so I can get out easier?"

 

Blaise nodded, moving closer. "I'm not sure that will work, Ginevra. I need to have some sort of space to apply it to. You're occupying that space. I can try anyway," he offered.

 

Moments later, the most that had been done was the destruction of Ginny's outfit.

 

Ginny wondered if this was some ridiculous punishment because she hadn't gone to the gym for two days in a row...

 

 _She needed to be thinner, or the sink needed to be bigger. She had to be small, like ... a fox_.

 

"Oh, I know what I can do. Can you pass my wand?"

 

Draco handed it to her, and they waited, watching to see her solution.

 

"Um, can you look away, please? I doubt this is going to look pretty," she muttered, a faint blush on her cheeks.

 

"Call us when you're ready," Blaise replied, pulling Draco out of the kitchen before he could protest.

 

A few minutes, they both heard some yapping, and with frowns, they looked into the kitchen. A red fox was in the sink, scrambling at the sides to get out. Due to the spell Blaise had done, the entire basin was slippery, making it impossible for Ginny to get out by herself.

 

Blaise lifted the fox out of the sink gently, setting her on the floor. Before Blaise had time to say or do anything, Draco had turned into his own Animagus form: a silver fox.

 

"Oh, gods'. I refuse to clean up after you," Blaise muttered, sitting on the floor.

 

The silver fox mewled pitifully, nudging his nose against his leg.

 

The red fox seemed delighted to have a friend to play with, practically barrelling herself into Draco.

 

"Oh, you haven't finished your Animagus training yet, have you?" Blaise asked as he scratched her behind the ear gently.

 

Draco growled slightly, jumping towards Ginny.

 

"If you so much as put one paw on this shirt, I am going to get you stuffed, Draco," Blaise threatened, hurrying to stand.

 

The silver fox gave a very human smirk.

 

Wondering how it had come to this, Blaise turned into his Animagus form as well, if only to save his shirt from its' possible demise.

 

 _Ginny was so happy! She had two fox friends to play with! One was silver, and the other was black, but look! They both had tails! This was going to be fun_!

 

...

 

"Thank you for the lovely evening, George. I had a wonderful time," Pansy said, smiling at him briefly.

 

"You're most welcome, Pansy. It was a pleasure to accompany such a fine woman," he replied, bowing low.

 

"Oh, don't be an idiot, George," she said with a laugh.

 

"That's your fifth laugh of the evening, m'dear. I believe you now owe me five Galleons," George said, grinning broadly.

 

Pansy bit her tongue so she wouldn't laugh again. That'd put her up to six Galleons.

 

"I never accepted the bet, George."

 

"What bet?"

 

"The bet you made with me earlier."

 

"So you admit that it was a bet, then?"

 

 _Oh, damn it. She'd walked straight into that one_.

 

George laughed, putting his arm around her shoulders. "You can pay me back in another way, if you'd prefer."

 

"And how would that be?" Pansy hadn't meant for her voice to come out quite so husky.

 

George's eyes roamed down her body, a devilish grin on his lips. "Ten kisses per laugh."

 

"Fifty kisses? That's a bit too expensive for me," she drawled, pulling her purse out, and hiding her smile. 

 

Handing George four Galleons, Pansy looked at him with a smile, watching as comprehension filled his face.

 

He grinned at her, pulling her close by her hips.

 

She let him kiss her once, and moved out of his grasp easily. "You never specified when I had to give them to you," Pansy said with a laugh.

 

George chuckled, taking her hand and kissing it lightly. "I shall bid you farewell, fair maiden, 'til we meet again."

 

"Good night, George," Pansy said, shaking her head at him with another smile.

 

"Sweet dreams, Pansy," he replied, winking at her as he Disapparated.

 

 _I told you it would be fine, didn't I, Georgie-boy_? Fred said, chuckling.

 

George's response was cut off when he heard the noises coming from the lounge-diner. Putting his robe on the coat hanger, he left the small entryway to see what was going on.

 

Three foxes were running around the table, a red one yapping as the black and silver ones tried to catch it.

 

For a moment, George just stood there, stunned.

 

Whatever he'd expected to see when he came home to his sister's date with the Malfoy and Zabini heirs, by Merlin's beard, it was definitely **not** this.

 

The red fox ran over to him, practically jumping up into his arms. George hurried to hold his sister properly so she wouldn't fall, and the other two foxes came to complete stop when they saw him standing there.

 

"I think you might want to change back sooner rather than later," George said, a grin flitting on his face.

 

Within moments, Draco and Blaise were standing before him. They both looked bright-eyed, and if he didn't know better, George would have sworn that Draco was blushing.

 

"You too, Gin-bug," George murmured softly, setting her on a chair.

 

Ginny took a bit longer to turn back, but she had the broadest grin on her face, and George couldn't help but smile in return. His smile faltered when she stood up, turning to face Draco and Blaise, and he frowned slightly.

 

"Why are you all wet?"

 

He had no idea why Ginny started laughing, but George was positive that Draco was blushing now.

 

...

 

End of the sixteenth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written long before JK Rowling's detailing of the Animagus process was made public. That's my excuse & I'm sticking to it!


	17. Chapter 17

Ginevra woke up, rubbing her eyes with one hand and hiding a yawn behind the other.

 

"Very good. I'm impressed at your progress, Ginevra, and I'm sure you'll get better in next week's advanced potion class," the instructor said, giving her a smile.

 

"Thank you, I hope I will too," she replied, still feeling tired.

 

She still hadn't bought a cauldron to practise with, but when Draco and Blaise had heard that she wasn't doing the best at the potions class, they'd taken her to one of their mansions (Ginny still wasn't sure whose home, or even where it was), and had spent the night instructing her and showing her how to make potions properly. Well, most of the night, at least... It seemed that Draco and Blaise were fond of reward systems when it came to learning, and some of the time _may_ have been spent snogging them senseless instead.

 

Ginny had woken this morning, fully clothed and nestled between them on a lounge, her potion bubbling away in the corner. She'd finished it (and had been made to understand over the night that size did matter when it came to potion ingredients), and while it wasn't going to win Potion of the Year, it was still useable.

 

She was glad of their instruction, but for now, she was more happy about the fact that the Sleeping Draught potion she'd made in class took a lot of concentration, so she couldn't be distracted by the thoughts of their kisses and hands.

 

The instructor had made them test their own potions with two drops of the potion placed on a piece of chocolate. Two drops were supposed to have them sleeping for ten minutes, and while Ginny had slept for twelve, it was better than Claudia, who was still asleep after fifteen minutes. Claudia was woken up after twenty minutes with a spell, since the effects of her potion didn't seem to be wearing off.

 

Morrigan had, of course, slept for exactly ten minutes, and if Jordan's expression was anything to go by, he'd also been instructed by Morrigan, and had woken up in ten minutes and fifty-nine seconds.

 

...

 

"Choose your weapon carefully. It will be the only one you are using for the rest of this lesson, and you want to be proficient with it."

 

Ginny took the handheld pistol and a box of bullets. She would have preferred the sniper gun, which was longer, but she had heard the rumours about this class, and wanted something that she could hold on to if she needed to start running.

 

When they'd all chosen their preferred weapons, they were lead through a side door into a darkened room. A red light was flashing slowly above them, casting everything in a crimson shadow. Their wands were taken from them and locked in a box. The box disappeared with a tap of the instructor's wand.

 

"Your objective is simple. Get to your wands, and don't get killed."

 

The instructor left the room, and the red light flashed two more times before it turned green. A door opened at the other side of the room, sunlight shining brilliantly from beyond it. Ginny cautiously went towards it, unsure of what to expect now. The rumours hadn't gone into much detail, and not even Draco or Blaise had told her anything. It was like they'd had an unspoken agreement not to mention Cloffice while they were outside of it.

 

Stepping through the doorway and into the light, Ginny was surprised to see that she was standing at the front of a large hedge maze. A small shiver went through her.

 

 _The last time she'd seen one of these, Voldemort had returned_...

 

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the entry. There was a rustling sound behind her, and she turned quickly, her gun ready, only to find that the hedge had closed completely, and the other three were nowhere in sight.

 

Turning around once more, Ginny started through the maze. She kept her gun close, her finger close to the trigger, but not so that she would automatically fire if startled. The last thing she wanted to do was shoot herself in the foot.

 

There was a noise behind her, and she turned, aiming. There was a cutout of someone coming at her with a knife. She shot twice, once in the shoulder, and once in the leg. It dropped to the ground, and just as she went to continue through the maze, Ginny was surprised to see the "cutout" starting to bleed from the wounds. Before she could move to it ( _him, her, a thing_?), the cutout disappeared.

 

Another noise behind her, and Ginny turned to see a group of cutouts. Two men were holding guns, while the third was holding a girl in front of his body to protect himself. The girl was crying for help ( _what sort of cutouts were these_?!) and the two with guns had them pointed straight at Ginny.

 

One let off a reckless shot, and Ginny moved behind the hedge so she wouldn't get hit. The girl cried louder.

 

She suddenly wished she'd grabbed the sniper rifle.

 

Ginny couldn't see through any gaps in the hedge, and it wouldn't budge when she attempted to move the branches. It was as solid as a wall. Moving slightly so she could see what was happening, Ginny realised that she could shoot one of the gunmen so long as they didn't see her and shoot first. She would have preferred a clean shot to the man holding the girl, knowing that the other two were following his lead, and would probably run the moment he was down, but this would have to do.

 

Taking aim, she kept both of her eyes open and took her shot. Closing one eye (as she'd seen actors do in those action movies George had watched) would have put her aim off, and she would have missed. Since she'd kept both eyes open, the bullet embedded itself straight into the man's hand, and he dropped the gun with a howl of pain. He disappeared moments later, but now that they were aware she would shoot at them, the other two moved out of her line of sight. She would have to leave the protection of the hedge in order to shoot them, and since she was positive that they would have their own weapons waiting for movement, she would have to take her shots straight away.

 

Checking to see if they were still there and hadn't run off, Ginny flinched when a volley of bullets came at her. There was some arguing from the two men about wasting ammo, the girl screaming when the hand around her throat tightened.

 

 _Great_ , Ginny thought in frustration. _I'm going to be killed by a cutout_.

 

Snapping off a branch quietly, Ginny threw it into the open space. One of the men, seeing the sudden movement, started shooting recklessly. While he was preoccupied with the branch, Ginny aimed and took her shot. The first bullet missed, and she cursed softly when they both turned to her, firing their own weapons. Quickly taking another shot, she pushed away her pleasure when one disappeared moments later. Aiming for the second man, Ginny fired the gun twice, crying out when a stray bullet embedded itself in her arm, and she stumbled back behind the hedge.

 

 _Being shot wasn't nearly as interesting as it seemed in those Muggle movies_ , she thought dazedly.

 

Clenching her teeth tightly, she pressed her hand against the bullet wound to stop the bleeding. It didn't work very well, so she hurried to take her shirt off, thankful for the gym shirt beneath it. Ginny ripped the now-ruined material and balled up a few strips, holding them against the wound. Using her teeth and free fingers, Ginny eventually wrapped another length around the compress, tying it to keep them there. She couldn't risk a tourniquet, knowing that it could lead to an unnecessary amputation of her arm, even with magic.

 

Satisfied that the makeshift bandage would stay where it was, Ginny stood up. She swayed on her feet, dizzy from the blood loss, and gripped the hedge to steady herself. Biting her tongue to focus on a different sort of pain, she made herself swallow the bile that threatened to come up. When she was certain that she wouldn't faint or throw up, Ginny refilled the cartridge in the gun.

 

Listening carefully, she frowned when she realised that she couldn't hear the girl crying anymore. She wondered if she'd hit the second man with her last shots.

 

Creeping out from behind her cover slowly, Ginny was surprised to find that the girl and man had disappeared. It seemed that one of her second two shots had actually hit its target. She was grateful that it had, but not naive enough to put it down to her own skill. It had been a lucky shot, nothing more.

 

Her arm aching, Ginny continued through the maze, intent on finding her wand.

 

...

 

"Mr. Weasley, please sit down," Pansy said, indicating to the seat across from her.

 

George nodded and sat on the offered seat, waiting patiently. There was no hint of a smile in his expression, nor an ounce of the laughter that had been in hers the night before. This meeting was purely business, and they both were acutely aware of the recording discs both on the floor and ceiling.

 

"The gadget team received the spy buttons; they're very excited about the prospects the buttons will bring," Pansy said, smiling briefly as she looked down at the parchments in front of her. She looked back up at George, serious once more. "I've received the results of the blood sample you gave me. I thought you'd want to see it."

 

The parchment was slid across to him, and George looked down at the picture and name of the man who had been following him and Ginny.

 

"Avery? Are you sure it's him?" George asked, his voice tight.

 

Avery was the Death Eater who had killed Fred in the Hogwarts Battle. However, since he confessed to the crime and had agreed to point fingers at fellow Death Eaters, he'd been given a reduced sentence in Azkaban. Apparently, only weeks after his release, Avery had simply dropped off the map, and no one had seen hide or hair of him since. That had been almost ten months ago, and the fact that he was following George now was more than suspicious.

 

"Has he been linked to any organisations?"

 

"That is still being worked on. The button you placed on him has provided enough information for us to intercept a package late next week."

 

"I want to go," George said adamantly.

 

"I thought you would," Pansy acknowledged with a nod. She slid over another parchment, this one blank. "The details will appear the morning of the mission. Do you need me to organise someone to cover the shop?"

 

"Last time you did that, Dennis scared off all of my customers," George replied with a slight grin. "I'll get someone to cover me, thanks," he said, standing to leave.

 

"I have not finished, Mr. Weasley," Pansy said, her eyebrow raised at his presumption.

 

Sitting quickly, George gave an apologetic smile.

 

"There was one other piece of information we managed to get from the spy button placed on Avery," she said, both looking and sounding hesitant.

 

George's smile faded, and he wondered what she was going to tell him.

 

"He wasn't following you, George. He was after Ginevra."

 

...

 

"Congratulations on retrieving your wand. Please go through the door on your right in order to be given proper medical attention."

 

Clutching her wand like a lifeline, Ginny made her way through the door, limping and her head spinning from blood loss. She was led to a chair by a medic and all but collapsed on to it, the sudden change in altitude making her nauseous enough to finally - and blissfully - pass out.

 

The bandage she'd made had fallen off after being thrown back into the hedge by one of her later opponents, and the branches had scratched the sticky bullet wound enough to make it start bleeding again. Ginny had been forced to press her hand against the wound to stop the bleeding, hoping that she wouldn't have to fight anyone else. Luck, it seemed, had not been on her side, and she'd faced her next opponent not even a minute later. This one had been carrying daggers, and the result of that fight was shown clearly by the long gash on her leg. She'd managed to get a foot in the person's face, which seemed enough to take them down with a broken nose.

 

Ginny had briefly wondered if these cutouts were actually other people training, and if their mission had been to not be injured, rather than hers of not to be 'killed'. It certainly explained why they were disappearing and she wasn't.

 

She'd rounded a corner to face yet another opponent, and she'd stopped wondering about it when a _gods' damned_ _freaking_ ** _sword_** had been swung at her.

 

"Miss Weasley?"

 

Ginny recognised the sensation of being shaken, and slowly blinked her way awake.

 

"You're all healed now, Miss Weasley. Please take care of yourself for the next few days, and do not exert yourself unnecessarily," the healer said kindly, smiling at her.

 

Ginny looked down at herself, surprised to find that the gash on her leg was completely gone. Moving her arm experimentally, she winced as she felt the painful throb in response.

 

"I've already sent the required potion doses to your place of residence. Please follow the instructions to the letter, and make sure to finish all of the doses; they are given to you for a reason," the healer added when she saw Ginny's grimace.

 

"I will. Thank you," she replied, standing slowly.

 

Ginny was glad that this had been her last lesson of the day and week. She doubted that she would have been able to handle the week's training if this had been at the beginning of the week.

 

She was surprised to see George waiting outside of the hospital ward, and frowned at him curiously.

 

"Why are you here?"

 

"You've been drugged up to your eyeballs, Gin, someone has to carry you home," George said, grinning at her.

 

"I haven't been drugged up to ... _ohhhhh_ ," Ginny's sentence trailed off with a dazed sound as the potions she'd been given while unconscious began to work their way through her blood faster.

 

George just grinned and raised an eyebrow at her. "I told you so. Come on, put your arm around me. Let's get you to bed," he murmured.

 

In the end, George almost had to carry her entire weight to the fireplace, her feet becoming numb when the potion worked on the damage that had been caused by the gash on her leg. It wasn't long before her arm became numb entirely, and Ginny almost slipped out of his grasp. With a small amount of difficulty, George managed to get his sister on her bed, take her shoes off, and tuck her in bed gently. On her side dresser was a goblet, enchanted to fill itself with the exact dosage of medicine Ginny would require over the next two days to recuperate.

 

...

 

"Afternoon, Ginevra. How are you feeling?"

 

Ginevra blinked hazily. Her mind felt foggy, and she took a moment to focus on the soft-spoken person in front of her.

 

"Neville? What're you doin' here?" she asked, her eyes already starting to drop closed.

 

"Heard how you went in the maze, so I thought I'd come see you. Must've gotten banged up pretty bad if they've given you this sort of dosage," he added, sniffing the concoction in the goblet.

 

"Got shot," she mumbled, and there was either a giggle or something akin to pride in her voice. "Hurt like, like... Like something hurtful."

 

"I know it does," Neville agreed with a nod.

 

"When'd you get shot?" she asked drowsily.

 

"A while ago. Few times, actually. First time I accidentally did it to myself," he admitted, grinning.

 

Ginny laughed, trying to blink and stay awake. The sedative in her medicine did little to help her do this, and she fought it tooth and nail just to keep her eyes open for longer than a minute.

 

"Don't force yourself, Ginevra. Go back to sleep," Neville said soothingly. "I'll come back another time, when you'll actually remember my visit," he added with a grin, kissing her head gently.

 

"Mmkay," she breathed, already settling back down into her warm, comfortable bed.

 

She vaguely heard Neville and George talking outside her room, things about infected wounds, blood loss, and being unconscious for almost two hours straight while the healers attempted to repair the damage she'd received in the maze.

 

Such big words, long words, all pretty words that didn't mean much while she was so tired and medicated like this. She wondered if she'd remember any of them later, and slipped back into the dark bliss of sleep.

 

...

 

When she awoke late on Sunday night, Ginny remembered small flashes from the past two days, fragmented pieces of a puzzle that she doubted her mind could ever complete.

 

George sitting beside her bed, his hand gripping hers tightly as he waited for her to wake up; George carefully spoon-feeding her hot soup, holding her up gently; George making sure she swallowed every drop of the vile medicine she'd been given; Neville visiting her, something about being shot; George pressing a warm cloth to her head after she'd woken abruptly at some ridiculous time a nightmare lingering as she screamed for Tom to stop killing her, the remembrance of phantom hands around her throat.

 

"George?" she called out.

 

He arrived at her room in mere seconds, looking frazzled and unkempt, to say the least. He had stubble on his cheeks, his eyes were dark from lack of sleep, and she was sure he'd been wearing those exact same clothes when he'd picked her up on Friday.

 

"Are you okay?" George asked immediately, faltering between the door and her bed, ready to fetch something at a moment's notice.

 

"George, please, sit down," Ginny murmured; tears springing to her eyes when she realised he hadn't even taken his shoes off in all this time.

 

He seemed to relax at her words, all of the adrenaline-fuelled energy leaving him instantly, and he slumped into the chair beside her bed.

 

"Tell me you're all right, Gin," he said, staring at her.

 

"I'm all right... Really, I am," she added when he just continued to stare.

 

He breathed a sigh of relief, holding her hand tightly. "You scared me, Gin. Completely terrified me. Don't do that again," George muttered seriously.

 

"What did I do? I made it through the maze," she said in confusion.

 

"You were shot in the first ten minutes of the maze, and you were in there for a total of two hours, Gin. You should have fainted from blood loss long before you did, and the only reason you didn't was due to your little bandage and adrenaline. Then there was also the fact that you got thrown into the hedge with nearly _every_ opponent. You managed to get so much dirt on your scrapes and wounds that the one on your side was so infected it had to be _drained_."

 

Ginny pulled a face at that, not liking the mental image it brought up. _She didn't even remember getting a wound on her side_!

 

"You went unconscious when the healers started on you, and didn't wake up for almost an hour after they finished. I was worried sick about you," George muttered, still holding her hand.

 

"Why didn't you tell me this on Friday?"

 

"Like I told you then: you were drugged up to the eyeballs. You wouldn't have remembered that I told you, let alone what it meant. Now you're awake, your fever's gone, and you can actually respond to questions without sounding like you're permanently drunk."

 

After a moment, Ginny nodded her acceptance of his words. Then she frowned slightly and looked at him. "Neville **was** here, wasn't he? I wasn't hallucinating?"

 

"He was here," George replied with a nod. "He brought you chocolates."

 

"Oh, where?" Ginny asked eagerly.

 

George chuckled at her enthusiasm. _Ginevra was definitely better_.

 

"They're in the kitchen, I'll go get them," he said, standing and leaving.

 

He was in the kitchen when Ginny cried out 'oh no', two syllables that had George running to her, almost dropping the box of chocolates in his panic.

 

"What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

 

"We didn't go visit Fred today," she said with a sad expression.

 

"Merlin's beard, don't do that!" George muttered, clutching his chest. "If you're going to give me a heart attack, at least wrap it in some pretty paper!"

 

Ginny didn't seem distracted by his joke, and frowned when he didn't reply about missing their visit to Fred's grave.

 

"We've gone to Fred's grave together nearly every Sunday since he died. Why are you not upset about this? Did you go by yourself today?"

 

George wanted to lie and say that he'd gone by himself, but looking at her sad and confused expression, he found that he couldn't do that. So instead, he told a half-truth. "I just think it's good to change our routine every now and then," he said, shrugging. "Fred would understand."

 

" _Change our routine_?" Ginny echoed, simply staring at him for a moment. "What in Merlin's name is going on, George?" she asked, her voice as stern as she could make it, given her current lack of strength.

 

"Nothing that you need to worry about, Gin-bug," he said, offering a smile.

 

She just glared at him, waiting for a proper answer. _They'd been doing the same thing for almost five years straight since the end of the war and now, out of the blue, he decides it's time to change things_?

 

"Look, just please trust me on this. It's for your own protection," he added.

 

"My own protection?" Ginny echoed, starting to feel like a broken wireless.

 

She frowned again, and slowly, the bits and pieces began to fit together in her mind. _The blood on George's hand, the person following them at the cemetery last week, the test subjects for his spy buttons, his sudden desire to break their routine_...

 

"Someone's following me, aren't they?"

 

His silence was answer enough.

 

"Well, do you know who it is?"

 

"Chocolate?" he offered, trying to distract her and make her forget about her question.

 

"No. Tell me who it is," Ginny said, crossing her arms over her chest with another glare.

 

George looked straight at her, and lied. "I don't know who it is, Gin. But Cloffice is trying to find out. I'll let you know the moment I find out anything, okay?"

 

Ginny didn't seem to believe him, but after a few moments, she unfolded her arms and sighed. "All right, George. I trust you," she said with a smile.

 

Her words felt like a knife straight to his heart, but he simply smiled back and didn't let the pain show.

 

"Now, I seem to remember you refusing the chocolate..." he trailed off, opening the box and popping one into his mouth.

 

Ginny made an indignant sound and scrambled out of her bed to get the box of chocolates off him.

 

...

 

George checked that his sister was asleep once more, and closed the door, heading into the lounge room.

 

He hadn't told Ginevra that Avery was following her for two very good reasons. The first being that he didn't trust her not to go and make a spectacle of herself simply to get a shot at Avery. They all knew he'd been the one to kill Fred, and while she was getting better at controlling her emotions, Ginevra wouldn't have been able to keep a lid on this. Hell, _he_ barely was, and he'd had years more experience of handling his emotions. The second reason was that while Ginevra might have been able to hurt Avery or maybe even kill him if she was lucky, they were still unaware of who he was working for, or why, and why he was following Ginevra around in the first place. The information was almost as important as keeping his sister safe.

 

Looking to the fireplace, George contemplated firecalling Pansy. He'd called her yesterday to let her know how Ginevra was going, only to be interrupted by his mother, demanding to know why he and Ginny weren't coming to dinner. He'd coughed miserably, said how contagious they were; yes, chicken soup would be nice; and how sorry that they'd miss dinner with everyone.

 

Molly looked dubious, but eventually believed him when he started on a coughing fit, and she'd instantly sent Errol and Pig off with a casserole dish of soup between them. By the time the birds had made it to the apartment, most of the soup had sloshed out of the sides of the dish, the enchantment worn off over the years. Despite this, George had left some of his best owl treats out for them, seeing how exhausted they were; apparently the weightless charm had worn off too. They refused to take treats from him directly, and hadn't for years now, not that he blamed them. Turning owls into canaries hadn't been the best idea at all.

 

Sighing, he decided not to call her. It was far too late in the night - _almost morning, in fact_ \- and he doubted she'd be awake anyway.

 

As he went to leave the lounge room, the fireplace lit up behind him, the green flames flickering eerie shadows on the wall.

 

"George? Oh gods', I didn't wake you up, did I?" Pansy asked, sounding as uncertain as he'd felt only moments ago.

 

By the time George turned around to face her, she was composed once more.

 

"No, I was just thinking of calling you, actually," he replied with a grin.

 

She watched him for a moment, as if to gauge how sincere he was being. "Really?"

 

"Really," he said, nodding. "Are you all right?"

 

"Fine, fine," she waved off. "How is Ginevra? Has her fever gone down?"

 

"She seemed much more alert when she woke up an hour or so ago. Managed to ask questions and get annoyed at my lack of answering."

 

Pansy frowned slightly. "What didn't you answer?"

 

Holding up a hand to indicate he wanted a moment, George quickly checked to ensure that Ginevra was still asleep. Satisfied that she was, and wasn't listening in on his conversation, he returned to answer Pansy's question.

 

...

 

Ginny woke up, her mouth dry. Sitting up, she swung her legs over her bed and yawned slightly. Making her way to the kitchen, Ginny was surprised to see George sitting on the lounge, his head slumped forward on his chest. Drinking a glass of water, Ginny glanced over to the clock hanging on the wall. She almost spat out the water in shock.

 

 _It was almost quarter to five! She had fifteen minutes before she had to be at Cloffice_!

 

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she swore quietly, aware that George was still asleep.

 

Hurrying around the apartment, Ginny had the fastest shower of her life, dried herself with a spell (it had to be done twice since she'd mispronounced it the first time and had found herself with a rather orange-tinge to her skin instead. Silently thanking the gods that she knew the counter-spell due to a very eventful birthday bash for Ron one year.), and was Flooing to _The Quibbler_ with minutes to spare. Throwing out a greeting to the receptionist, Ginny all but ran down to her office, and immediately Flooed to Training Centre Two.

 

"Hey, you're okay! I was worried when I heard how bad you were after Friday. I was going to firecall, but then I realised I didn't know your grate number. Are you sure you're okay to be here?" Morrigan asked intensely.

 

Ginny hugged her, hearing the worry in her strung-out sentences.

 

"I'm fine. Thanks for worrying about me," she said with a smile.

 

"Glad you're okay, Ginny," Jordan said, grinning when Morrigan refused to let go of her for a few moments longer.

 

"If you ever get shot and almost die again, I will kill you," Morrigan muttered, finally releasing Ginny from the hug.

 

"What if I get killed by something other than a bullet?" Ginny asked, smirking when Morrigan just glared at her.

 

There was a clap, much like thunder, from behind them. While the noise did startle Ginny, she didn't jump or curse. She turned around to face the instructor, who had been waiting with an amused expression.

 

"If you'd like to get seated, we can actually start for the day," he said, still grinning.

 

The seats were placed in a circle around a small semi-circle ball. The flat part of the ball was on the floor, and as Ginny sat down and inspected it closer, she could see a thin line running down the centre of it.

 

When they were seated, the instructor dimmed the lights, and tapped his wand to the semi-circle. It cracked open silently, and moments later, tiny balls of light filled the room.

 

"This is the solar system we live in."

 

Ginny focused on the balls in front of her, slowly recognising them as constellations.

 

There was a motion from the instructor, and suddenly, the balls of light flew together to form one large ball; a planet.

 

"This is Earth. Who can see what's wrong with this?"

 

They were silent for a moment, watching the planet rotate in front of them.

 

"The land masses are purple?" Morrigan said, unsure of her own answer, but loathing the silence.

 

He smiled and shook his head gently.

 

"They're the wrong shape," Ginny blurted out in surprise.

 

"Correct. The purple land is what Muggles believe the world to be shaped like, and for them, it is. However, there is more land in the wizarding world, specifically land masses that have been made Unplottable and those that have been altered so Muggles don't see them. What they believe to be a small uninhabitable island could be an entire city of wizarding folk. Now," he said, pausing as he did a spell. " _This_ is the wizarding world."

 

Suddenly, the purple land was replaced with green masses, most of them expanding slightly, along with more islands appearing in the blue ocean.

 

Ginny almost sighed in relief. It was weird - uncomfortably so - to see the world she knew so _lacking_.

 

"These red spots indicate places that have a Minister, or someone in a similar role, in power."

 

A large dot appeared over the United Kingdom. Other dots were scattered across the globe. One in Australia, Japan, China, both North and South America, Korea; Africa had quite a few spots, and they seemed to be wavering, as if they weren't quite solid.

 

"What do the dots in Africa mean?" Jordan asked, frowning when he saw the shimmering dots.

 

"Good observation. There is a lot of rivalry and tension in Africa at the moment, and the position of power has never been quite stable..." he trailed off for a moment, then returned to the present just as suddenly. "What else do you notice? Anyone? Don't be afraid to speak up."

 

Morrigan didn't have to be told twice. "The Russian, sorry the Soviet Union, dot is black."

 

"There's something wrong with the dot in France as well," Ginny added, her eyebrow furrowed as she looked at it.

 

"What makes you think there's something wrong with the French dot?" the instructor asked curiously.

 

"Well, all of the other dots are in the centre of the land, or at least by the wizarding capital, like the ones in Africa and the Americas. But the one in France is closer to the England border, and nowhere near Paris," she answered, standing to look at the dot properly.

 

As Ginny got closer to the globe, the land became bigger, and the dot was clearer to see. France's dot was near Cherbourg-Octeville, rather than Paris.

 

The wizarding world's Portsmouth was actually connected to the Isle of Wight, and the United Kingdom itself was closer to France than the Muggle maps showed.

 

"Please, sit down," the instructor said.

 

Ginny frowned, hearing the note of tension in his voice, but did as told, and returned to her seat. The globe returned to it's normal size, showing all of the continents and dots.

 

"Now, why do you think that the Soviet Union's dot is black?" the instructor asked.

 

For the rest of the lesson, the globe didn't once return to the United Kingdom or France.

 

...

 

As Ginny left the classroom, she saw that Lin was waiting outside the room. When the receptionist saw her, she beckoned her over.

 

"You have three firecalls waiting. Two are here, one is at your office. You have five minutes for each, and you will be excused from your next lesson for that time. Please, hurry," Lin said, taking Ginny by the arm and guiding her up to the reception.

 

Ginny was surprised at how easily Lin was pulling her along, and that, no matter how she tried, she couldn't get her arm away from her grip. _Lin sure didn't_ ** _look_** _this strong_!

 

 _You really think Cloffice would employ someone who couldn't handle a threat, even if they seem to be nothing more than a receptionist_?

 

 _Ah, that little voice was back_...

 

 _I never left, thank you very much. You just needed your rest. Now hurry up and deal with whatever these are, and get back to work. You'll need to catch up with the others, and you know how much can happen in fifteen minutes_.

 

"Thank you, Lin," she said when the woman stopped in front of the fireplace and finally let go of her arm.

 

"Tell me when you need Floo powder to get back to your office," she replied, returning to her desk.

 

Ginny opened the grate, and was beyond shocked to see Dennis there.

 

"Dennis? Are you all right? Is something wrong with Neville?"

 

Dennis didn't reply for a moment, simply watching her. "Neville was very worried about you, and wanted me to check that you were okay. I couldn't leave my class to make sure."

 

Ginny sighed in relief, and offered him a smile. "I'm still a bit sore, but otherwise fine. Please tell Neville not to worry... And thank you for checking up on me," she added, noticing the worry lines in his face.

 

He nodded and shut the grate without a word.

 

She didn't mind that he hadn't said goodbye, knowing that those two sentences were more than usual for him, and he'd probably want to tell Neville that she was fine sooner rather than later.

 

Opening the second grate, Ginny wasn't as surprised to see George there.

 

"Oh, you're there. Leave a note next time, would you? Woke up at five thirty, and freaked out when you weren't here," George muttered, running a hand through his hair.

 

"Sorry, I was running late. I still haven't eaten anything," she said, frowning slightly.

 

"Well, I'll leave you to get back to it then. Grab a roll from the kitchen if you can," he said with a grin.

 

"Can't yet, I've got another firecall at my office."

 

"Oh."

 

There was something in that one syllable that had Ginny frowning at her brother. "You know who it is, don't you?"

 

"It's Mum. I kind of blew her off about dinner on Saturday, saying we were both sick with contagious colds. She's already blasted me this morning. Good luck!" George said, far too cheerfully, and shut the grate before she could reply.

 

Ginny sighed irritably. She went to Lin for the Floo powder, and stepped through the flames and into her office. The flames turned orange behind her, and she briefly wondered if she'd be able to run and get out before they turned red.

 

 _Too late now_ , the voice said (with what she was sure was a smug smirk) when the flames turned red and her mother's face appeared.

 

"There you are! I've been on hold for almost fifteen minutes! Why would you keep me waiting this long? I've been worried sick about you all weekend, and you're at work today without a single word to let me know you were okay?"

 

"Sorry, Mum. I've been in a meeting all morning, and couldn't get out sooner than this. I didn't mean to make you worry, but I was really sick and pretty drugged up all weekend, so I wouldn't have been able to say much even if I did call. I was running late to work, otherwise I would have owled straight away to tell you I'm much better, and thank you for the food," Ginny added, smiling briefly.

 

 _She just really hoped that her mother had sent food_.

 

"Oh, I'm glad you liked the soup. It was probably my food that got you better, you know. Can't trust all of those drug potions nowadays, and there's no remedy like chicken soup to make you get back on your feet," Molly said proudly.

 

"I know, Mum. Sorry, but I've got to get back to the meeting now. I'll see you this weekend, okay?"

 

"All right. Look after yourself, and your brother, as well. Don't want to see you two as skinny as what you are. You're as thin as a broom, Ginny."

 

"Yes, Mum. Bye," Ginny said, closing the grate when Molly finally said goodbye.

 

Looking at her watch, Ginny realised she only had a few minutes before her fifteen minutes were up. Flooing back to Cloffice, she thanked Lin, and hurried to her next class.

 

...

 

Ginny stepped back as smoke filtered out of the cauldron. She looked over at Morrigan's cauldron, and was relieved to see smoke coming out of it as well. She was following the directions of the potion recipe exactly, but after living with the twins and their experiments as a child, she was hardly reassured with a cauldron that was pouring with smoke.

 

There was a small shriek behind her, and Ginny instinctively ducked. Something flew over her head, bouncing off a small barrier around her cauldron, and onto the floor in front of her table. She'd learnt the hard way what happened when Claudia's misdirected ingredients ended up in her cauldron. It seemed that the woman had a phobia when it came to touching anything required to make a potion, and simply threw ingredients towards the cauldron in the hope that they landed inside the boiling water.

 

Looking to the instructions again, Ginny added the eye of newt and Dragon's Wort, stirring from the rim of the cauldron to the middle, making sure that it was all mixed in properly.

 

They'd been informed at the start of the lesson that they would be required to create their own potion using a range of ingredients they'd be given. The lessons they'd be doing this week were to experiment with a number of ingredients to see the effect they could have both in various amounts, as well as when mixed with other ingredients.

 

Today's potion was one that reminded her of Severus Snape, oddly enough. She'd barely thought of the man since the war, and here he was, in her thoughts, when they were bottling _Gloria's Lamentor_ , translated from Latin to mean "Fame's Lament". It was the opposite of the _Felix Felicis_ , apparently, but Ginny had no desire to try it and find out for herself.

 

There was another screech from behind, a flying missile overhead, and Ginny almost got hit in the back of the head with Gillyweed. She muttered to herself and returned to her potion, keeping an ear out for any more of Claudia's screams.

 

...

 

Beneath the table, away from prying eyes, Blaise grabbed Draco's leg tightly. Ginevra had just walked into the cafeteria... She looked pale and tired, but seemed fine otherwise. There was a fierce determination in her eyes as she lined up for food.

 

"She's all right," he breathed softly, the sound swallowed by the cafeteria noise and so, unheard by the various recording discs in the area.

 

Draco gave a minute nod, but beneath the table, his hand found Blaise's, and he squeezed it in return. They'd both worried about her the moment they heard she'd been shot, and had driven each other crazy until they'd finally found out that George had taken his sister home to recuperate. Even then, they'd had to stop each other from Apparating or Flooing to George and Ginevra's apartment to check on her, screw the consequences.

 

There was no need to call out to her, as it was becoming normal for them to be seated together at lunch. Ginny sat across from them, Jordan and Morrigan sitting next to each other.

 

"Spaghetti **and** chocolate cake? You _must_ be well," Draco drawled, smirking at her as he folded his arms over his chest.

 

Ginny looked at him crossly, but her expression softened when she saw the white marks on his hand from being clenched and squeezed too tightly.

 

"I am feeling better, actually. George took very good care of me; probably at the expense of his own health," she mused with a slight frown. "And I missed breakfast since I overslept, so I'm kind of hungry," she said, smiling now.

 

"Eat up then, you don't want to be training on an empty stomach," Blaise said with a grin, nudging her tray a bit closer to her.

 

Morrigan seemed extremely amused at their behaviour, but Ginny just rolled her eyes at him and ate her lunch.

 

A few minutes after she'd finally finished, Ginny excused herself to go to the shooting gallery and practice some more. About five minutes later, Draco and Blaise left as well, saying they were going to the gymnasium.

 

"They must think we're stupid," Morrigan said, grinning at Jordan.

 

"Probably just trying to cover their tracks; it's not like they can be seen out in public together, after all," he replied, giving her hand a small squeeze.

 

"This isn't exactly public, Jordan," she replied with a brief frown.

 

"No, but they have no reason to trust everyone in here, do they?" he countered softly, his eyes flicking to where Claudia was sitting, her eyes trained on the cafeteria door.

 

Morrigan muttered under her breath about her, but shrugged and returned to her meal, chatting to Jordan about the ingredients she was hoping to experiment with at the end of the week.

 

...

 

"Are you insane, teasing me like that under the table? Morrigan was sitting right next to me," Ginny muttered, trying her hardest to stay mad and glare at them.

 

"Well, **I** wasn't the one teasing you... Blaise, you sly bastard," Draco said, smirking at him.

 

"I'm completely innocent," he replied, far too casually to be telling the truth. "Besides, you didn't have to play footsies back," Blaise said, smirking at her.

 

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I was trying to get your foot away from mine, thank you very much!"

 

Blaise snorted. "Yeah, for the first three seconds."

 

They heard footsteps and went silent until they could no longer hear the person walking past the shooting gallery. Draco had stepped over the recording disc, so that they couldn't be seen or heard until he removed his foot. He'd timed this exact thing with Blaise on Friday afternoon, and it had taken the Cloffice about ten minutes to send someone to make him move. So long as he moved by that time, they would be left alone. They had three minutes left.

 

"Well, don't do it again. People will see," she muttered.

 

"And if we're alone?" Blaise asked, the low tone to his voice sending a shiver up her spine.

 

"If we're alone, I'd hope to be doing more than just playing footsies," she replied, biting her lip to hide her grin when their expressions went slack.

 

"And you call _us_ teases?" Draco groaned.

 

Two minutes.

 

Ginny laughed, kissing each of them on the lips quickly, before moving away. Blaise followed her immediately, pulling her against his body, his lips on hers.

 

Draco cursed the fact that he'd decided to stand on the blasted disc. If he hadn't, then it would be Blaise standing here while _he_ was kissing Ginevra. She seemed to notice that he wasn't with them, and looked over to him with flushed cheeks. A grin spread across her face as she moved to him, her arms around his neck, pressing herself against his body.

 

 _Dear gods, was she_ ** _trying_** _to make him move_?!

 

One minute left.

 

Ginny pulled away with a grin, and licked her lips. That action almost undid Draco, and he pressed his forehead against her shoulder, breathing heavily to control himself.

 

"Ready?" Blaise asked.

 

Draco looked up and nodded. Blaise put a pair of earmuffs on his head, moving to a cubicle with a Brown Bess musket. Ginny picked up a Glock, checked the weapon was loaded, and moved to her own cubicle. When they were both firing their weapons, he stepped forward into a cubicle and shot his own weapon, a MAB D pistol.

 

Moments later, a man in nondescript robes came inside the gallery. Satisfied from a glance that no one was standing on the recording disc, he assumed it had simply been a person lingering while they loaded and checked their weapons, and returned to the security area.

 

Ginny fired the Glock, trying not to grin. _They'd got away with it_...

 

 ** _This_** _time_ , the little voice added quietly.

 

...

 

End of the seventeenth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

George awoke abruptly to a small beeping sound. It was a sound that was familiar, despite the fact that he hadn't heard it in quite some time now. Quickly tapping the parchment with his wand, George rubbed his eyes to clear the gathered sleep, reading the words as they began to form on the once-blank sheet.

Reading over the mission's details, George placed the parchment in his cold fireplace, leaving his bedroom and heading to the bathroom silently. Behind him, the parchment lit up in a flash of flames and blue smoke, and within seconds, there was nothing left but a pile of ashes.

When he was showered, dry, and dressed, George looked in his sister's room quietly, not wanting to disturb her. Ginevra was sleeping peacefully enough now, the sheet tangled from the nightmare she'd been through earlier in the night.

Knowing that if he moved the sheet to cover her properly Gin would wake up, he left her sleeping and continued down to the lounge room. He sent an owl to Oliver, asking him to watch over the shop for the day. He didn't wait for a reply, knowing that his friend wouldn't question him or let him down.

Removing a minuscule amount of powder from a pouch that was clipped to his belt, George threw it into the fireplace and simply looked at the blue flames for a moment. Normal Floo's made the flames green, but this wasn't normal Floo powder. This powder made it possible to travel without being recorded on the Ministry's Floo list, and as such, was a highly expensive and valuable item. Each operative from Cloffice was given about 100 grams and a pinch would last forty-five seconds, which was more than enough time to get where they needed.

Stepping into the flames, George thought of his destination - another bonus of the blue powdered flames, no verbal commands needed - and disappeared without a sound or flash.

In her room, Ginny rolled over on her bed and continued to sleep, oblivious to the fact her brother had just disappeared without a trace.

Across the country, Pansy set down her quill. When she heard the final beep, indicating that her message had been received by all of the appropriate Cloffice operatives, she threw the parchment into the fireplace, watching as the flames bit and tore it into nothing but ashes. George would be going on his first mission in a long time, and Pansy would be lying if she said that she wasn't worried for him. She trusted him, and despite personally knowing that he was nothing but a professional in the field, Pansy still worried that something would go wrong while he was on his mission and she'd lose him. _Again_.

Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose briefly, Pansy readied herself for another day of work. She just hoped that she'd be too busy to think about George's welfare every minute until she heard from him.

...

Ginny bit her tongue to concentrate on the parchment in front of her. She was doing the final test for the cryptography class and had to decode hidden messages in different formats within certain time limits.

This particular one was using library subject classifications, and her parchment was specific to the _Three Little Pigs_. Ginny had finally come to the conclusion that the rendezvous date and time were in the control number 85081155 - the 8th of May, 2008 at 11:55am. The place was a bit more difficult, and Ginny was bordering on the time limit when she wrote "Three Little Pigs Pub" in Wisconsin as her answer.

The reason for her distraction was George's absence that morning. He hadn't left a note for her, and a return owl from Oliver Wood had woken her up to inform George that he could look after the shop for him.

Turning over the parchment, another hidden message appeared, this one in musical form, much like the one Draco and Blaise had sent her.

Continuing with her test, Ginny listened to the ticking clock carefully, making sure she wouldn't go over the allocated time.

...

George followed Avery, a team of Cloffice operatives with him. They were all moving silently through the dark streets, all waiting and watching to see where Avery was going, and who he was meeting with. If it was possible, they would be able to intercept the package he was meant to pick up.

George didn't have to look up to know that there were more of his team along the rooftops. They were Apparating silently from roof to roof, ensuring that Avery could always be seen.

Despite their silence and the fact that they were completely hidden with various cloaking devices and shielding spells, Avery seemed to realise that he was being followed, and continuously looked over his shoulder. It was either that or he was nervous about whoever he was meeting, or whatever package it was that he had to pick up. George almost hoped it wasn't either of these options; a former Death Eater being nervous about someone or something in this way hadn't happened since Voldemort's reign.

With another look over his shoulder, Avery slipped inside a building. As he stepped inside, the building itself seemed to disappear.

Waiting until the team on the roof confirmed that they weren't being watched, George led his team out onto the street, all of their wands pointed at where the hidden building was. A combined spell forced the building to reveal itself once more without alerting those inside. George was cautious as he approached, not knowing how they may have booby trapped the building. He reached the door without incident, and George was suspicious when he opened the door without even getting an electric shock.

 _The door knob at_ Wheezes _had a small charge running through it, yet this building that was supposed to be a hideout for a former Death Eater didn't have a thing_?

Hearing voices echoing from further inside the building, George crept closer. Waving his team forward silently, they all made their way closer to the voices. Again, he was disappointed and surprised to find that no traps or wards existed. When he was close enough to hear the voices, it took George a moment to realise that they were speaking in French. Wishing he'd kept practising with the language, George hurried to tap a spy button in his hand, letting the small circle record everything that was being said.

A ladder was nearby, leading up to the rafters. Indicating for the others in his team to stay where they were, George began to climb the rungs silently. Being silent while moving up into the rafters took some time and patience, but he did it eventually, sitting on the rafter so he could record their faces as well as their conversation. Annoyingly, the person that Avery was meeting was wearing a hooded robe and facing the wrong way, so George had no idea who it was, and had no way to identify them later. He looked at Avery closely when he saw something shiny resting against the former Death Eater's chest. He gripped the rafter tightly, thankful that it didn't creak beneath his sudden action. Avery was wearing a Time Turner.

This new piece of information changed the entire mission, as he wasn't sure how many versions of Avery were wandering around at this very moment. Avery was a nervous man, even before being a Death Eater, and he would keep his hand on that Time Turner until he was sure he was safe. If they tried to intercept him later, or even move into the room at this very moment, Avery could send out ten different versions of himself to incapacitate them. It could be done by someone experienced enough with the workings of such a device.

George slowly made his way down the ladder, indicating to his team to be ready to leave the moment anything suspicious happened. Continuing to record the conversation, he kept his good ear alert for any sudden movements or sounds that weren't meant to be there.

When it seemed that the conversation was drawing to a close, George stopped the recording, motioning with his fingers for his team to leave the building once more. As he was exiting, he noticed that the fireplace in the foyer was cold and bare, and that there were a lot of cardboard boxes in the large bin outside. Since he didn't have time to look at anything further, George continued down the street, keeping to the shadows and ensuring that the cloaking devices were still working until they could reach their allocated Disapparation point. When he reached it, and after checking that everyone had arrived safely, George and his team Disapparated silently back to Cloffice to report their mission to Pansy.

...

Shouldering the shotgun, Ginny fired at the silhouette in front of her. The bullet flew through the air, impacting into the figure's chest with a heavy thud. Red liquid poured from the wound, and the enchanted dummy began to howl in pain.

Ignoring the cries of the dummy didn't take as long as it had at the beginning of the class, and Ginny shot again, effectively killing the wooden enchantment.

"Good work, Ginevra. Do another one; try to get a killing chest shot on the first time," the instructor said, his wand waving to restore the dummy to its former self.

Ginny nodded briefly, bringing the shotgun back up to her shoulder. When she'd first used this weapon, she'd moved back with the recoil almost half a metre. Now that she was more proficient with it, Ginny's aching shoulder was the only thing that showed she'd used it.

The dummy ran towards her, a knife drawn and ready to kill. Its arm was covering its chest, and there was no clean shot to the chest yet. _Closer, closer_. The dummy was only a few metres away. Ginny focused on her target, breathing deeply, concentrating and waiting for the perfect shot. It came only moments later, and she squeezed her finger on the trigger.

Again, the bullet whizzed through the air. This time, it impacted straight into the target drawn over the dummy's heart. It fell to the ground with a wheezing cry. The dummy was dead less than a minute later and covered in blood.

"Good work. Move on to the next weapon station."

Ginny put the weapon down and moved across as instructed. She didn't think, didn't want to even breathe normally between stations and weapons, didn't want to blink or do anything human. If she did, then Ginny knew that she would never pass this class.

...

"Is there any reason we're here almost an hour early?" Ginny hissed at George, smiling quickly when Molly looked in their direction.

"Damage control for missing last week," George replied out of the corner of his mouth. "Figured it would keep Mother dearest off our backs for a while at least."

"I don't think it's going to work," Ginny said, shaking her head at him.

"Ah, well. Not like it'll kill us," he replied cheerfully, raising his Butterbeer in a mock salute before going over to where Gabrielle was sitting beside her sister and brother-in-law.

Frowning slightly, Ginny watched after her brother. George still hadn't told her where he'd gone yesterday, only that he was sorry that Oliver's owl had woken her up. She noticed him whispering something to Gabrielle and passing something to her, something that looked remarkably like a button...

Gabrielle caught her eye and smiled, winking briefly as she placed a kiss on George's cheek.

 _Did that mean that she was part of Cloffice as well_? Ginny wondered. _Was there a French division of the Cloffice, or was Gabrielle part of the English one? Was there even a difference between the two_?

George returned to her a few moments later, and Gabrielle Disapparated after saying how unwell she was feeling. Both Fleur and Molly looked surprised and suspicious at her sudden illness, but when the young Frenchwoman had started to sprout boils over her face, they immediately sent her home.

"So, you up for a visit to Fred tomorrow?" George asked Ginny, grinning at her.

"Fine. Any chance you'll tell me what that was about?"

"What _what_ was about?" he replied in mock innocence.

Sighing, she shook her head at her brother. "Shouldn't have bothered asking."

George just grinned at her again, and they were soon called into the dining room for dinner.

...

Morrigan rolled over with a small moan, her mind in the throes of a nightmare.

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

_The curse seemed to echo in the huge room, and her young eyes were wide in fear as her brother killed her parents. His face was completely blank, and without seeming to see her, he turned and walked back out of the house._

_She was young, only nine years old, but she knew what that spell meant. She knew what her brother had done, why her parents would never move again._

_Running after her brother, she yelled at him, begging, screaming for him to do the same to her. Over and over, the murder of her parents played before her eyes._

_Her brother turned to face her, his expression still blank, and he raised his wand, a curse on his lips._

_Her inner magic still hadn't settled since she hadn't yet attended Beaubaxtons to learn how to control it. As such, magical happenings occurred every time she became too emotional, and now, as her brother began to utter the Killing Curse, Morrigan's magic took affect. She Apparated away before the curse could leave his wand._

_Due to her emotional turmoil, Morrigan's sudden teleportation was not as smooth as most accidental Apparations were, and she Splinched herself. The pain that filled her body was like nothing she'd ever felt before, but the pain in her heart and mind were even worse_.

The nightmare returned to the beginning, continuing over and over for the rest of the night.

Sometimes, however, the story continued, and the nightmare lessened to a painful dream.

The Ministry had found her screaming and crying in the middle of a park in the dead of the night. She'd been healed, cleaned up, sent to her Grandmother's house for two years until her letter arrived to send her to magical boarding school. At first, Morrigan had resisted every attempt to make her use magic, had screamed every time someone brought a wand near her, and by the time the first year and a half had passed, it almost seemed as if she no longer had magic; the power retreating and fading after being pushed away and neglected so many times.

Her Grandmother had been understanding, despite the sorrow reflecting in her eyes every time she heard Morrigan's brother's name. He was in St. Mungo's, residing in a bed next to the Longbottoms. He screamed in the night too, and couldn't abide magic near him either.

Morrigan's Grandmother had been patient, teaching her about plants and their individual properties. She taught her how to make potions, had watched as she created her very first Pepperup Potion, and consequently drying Morrigan's tears when the potion made her ears smoke for three days straight. She taught her everything she knew, and bought books when she had run out of personal knowledge.

Six months before her letter to Beaubaxtons arrived, one of Morrigan's favourite potion books was lying on her Grandmother's lap, her wand lying on top. She had skirted around the sitting room for most of the afternoon, hoping her Grandmother would wake up and take the wand away, but she seemed to be in a deep sleep and disinclined to wake up any time soon. Eventually, Morrigan had snatched the book away, holding it close to her chest as the wand rolled onto the floor and under the love seat. Turning to leave, Morrigan stopped at the doorway. She didn't want her kindly - and fairly old - Grandmother to worry over her wand, or try to get it from under the seat and injure herself.

Again, she saw her brother's blank face as he killed their parents. The Killing Curse flowing from his lips before either one had a chance to move, their loving faces turned to their only son.

She shuddered, her fingers digging into the book cover tightly.

Another image assaulted her mind, this one of her Grandmother, frail and weak in a hospital bed, her body broken and damaged after trying to get her wand on her own. Later, she would realise that this thought was nothing more than a dramatisation of a traumatised mind, but at that moment, it felt like a very real possibility.

Morrigan turned back to face the sitting room, slowly walking over to the lounge that was backed up against a wall. Taking a deep breath, and trying not to think of her brother, screaming in the St. Mungo's hospital bed, Morrigan dropped to her knees. She could see the wand at the very back of the lounge, and lay flat on her stomach. It took almost five minutes to overcome the fear in her mind and reach under the lounge. More minutes passed before she could even grab the wand, but barely a second passed in the time it took her to pull her arm back out. Morrigan stood up, her body trembling from the ordeal, and she walked over to her Grandmother, placing her wand back on her lap gently.

Looking up at her Grandmother, Morrigan wasn't overly surprised to see that her eyes were open, and she was suddenly awake. She handed the wand back to Morrigan, who accepted it slowly and cautiously. Standing up from her seat, her Grandmother took the book from her hand, held her hand and led her to the potion room to teach her another potion.

When this dream happened, Morrigan usually woke up soon after. However, on this night, the nightmare was never ending, and she only woke up when her alarm went off the next morning.

...

"Are you all right, Morrigan?" Jordan asked her quietly when he saw the dark bags under her eyes.

"Been better," she said, smiling briefly.

Ginny frowned slightly when Morrigan didn't say anything else, the uncharacteristically short reply her entire answer. "Are you sick? Do you want to go to the hospital ward?" she asked.

"I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well," Morrigan replied. "Look, can we just go already?"

"All right," Ginny answered with a nod, heading down the corridors to their only class for the day.

...

"Good morning, everyone. I hope you're all well and looking forward to your lesson this morning. I'm Neville Longbottom, and for rest of the day, I'll be teaching you everything I know about Herbology," Neville introduced himself, grinning slightly when he looked at Ginevra.

Morrigan's tired mood seemed to brighten considerably, and she stared at Neville with wide eyes and her cheeks reddening.

"Do you think it's rude to ask for an autograph?" Morrigan whispered in excitement to Ginny when Neville turned away.

Ginny held back her grin, glad that Morrigan seemed to be in better spirits. Although, since she had been friends with Neville since Hogwarts, it was surprising to see Morrigan so flustered over him. She often forgot that he was a famous Herbologist.

"Maybe wait until after class," she advised softly.

"For those of you that don't know, I recently discovered a new breed of snapping dragon," he said, turning to face them with two potted plants.

Inside the terracotta pots were two blue snapping dragon plants, both of which were attempting to bite each other, some of their petal-teeth falling to the ground with each snap. As the petals floated down, new ones grew in their place almost immediately.

"As you can see, these breeds of snapping dragons have the fastest regeneration in regards to their flowers. This is actually because their stems are so fragile that they've been forced to adapt to their habitat over the years in order to not be killed by herbivore predators."

At his last words, Claudia let out a scoff of disbelief. "It's a plant. It can't be _killed_."

"You're not the first to think that. But in actuality, this breed _can_ be killed. They're able to be hurt, despite not having a brain like you and I," Neville replied. "These two might look aggressive towards one another, but they're actually mates. When I tried to take one from the ground I found it," he said, deciding not to describe the marsh he'd had to walk through for five days in order to find these plants, "the other plant actually tried to poison me unless I took it as well. The one I held wilted so quickly that I thought it had died without being in its natural soil. In fact, I can demonstrate it to you," Neville said, setting both of the pots on the table in front of him.

He kept them side by side but with enough space between them so that they couldn't reach each other. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he opened it with a flick of his wrist and held the thin material between the two plants. Before their eyes, one of the plants began to wilt, the vibrant blue fading to a tinted white colour and the petals falling off quickly, revealing a thin white stem. On the other side of the handkerchief, the flower puffed up considerably, thick globs of liquid forming in its mouth. Before either plant could die or kill him, Neville pulled the handkerchief back. The wilted flower immediately grew petals, seemingly more vibrant before, and the second plant made an actual gulping sound, the poison disappearing.

"The one that wilts is actually the male plant, while the female gets aggressive and poisonous," Neville said, smiling briefly. "Their pollen is being used to create new plants, and I'm eager to see if their offspring will differ from them in any way. Their sap, or poison, is being trialled in a few different ways to see how they react to our current ingredients. Yes?" he called on Morrigan, seeing her hand up in the air.

She stood up suddenly, her face red and unable to stop smiling. "First, I just wanted to say I love your work. It's such an honour to meet you in person, and I can't believe you're right here in front of me," she gushed, barely able to keep her words in. "And secondly, I was just thinking that the poison, or sap, might be beneficial for the Eratus Potion as it helps with tissue regeneration."

Neville seemed a bit surprised at how pleased she was to meet him, but intrigued by her second statement as well. "Why that particular potion? There are other more well-known potions that can have the same effect."

"Yes, but all of those potions have to be applied constantly and soon stop working all together. The Eratus Potion only needs to be applied for a few weeks and the tissues are repaired for a much longer time. It's just that it takes so long to actually show any results that most people try the other potions first because they can see it working sooner. If the Eratus Potion had this particular ingredient added, then it could speed up the visible results and be better for the patients as well."

"Thank you, Morrigan. I'll definitely try that. If you could give me your grate number, it might be useful to talk over it further..."

Ginny loved Neville's excitement at being able to have a proper conversation with someone who knew what he was talking about, but she knew all too well how distracted he could get when talking about plants. While the demonstration was interesting, she sincerely doubted that it was supposed to cover the entire lesson.

 _Oh, for the gods' sakes. Sneeze or something. Actually, don't do that. You can't do a fake-sneeze at the best of the times. Just cough already_.

Ginny decided that her sub-conscience was far too bossy for something that she wasn't even supposed to be consciously aware of. But she coughed anyway.

Neville gave a minute nod to her, and returned to the original topic.

The door opened behind them, signalling the end of the lesson, and they all stood to leave. Morrigan immediately wrote down her grate number for Neville, talking quickly about more potions she'd thought of during the class. When he heard her stomach rumbling, Jordan took her hand and gently led her to the door. As Claudia had left the moment the door opened, only Ginny and Neville were left in the room.

"Why didn't you tell me you taught here? And how do you teach here as well as Hogwarts?"

"Professors get days off as well. But unlike the other Hogwarts Professors, I don't grade assignments or create new lessons for the next week. I say that I'm locking myself in the greenhouses for the entire day and that I cannot be disturbed unless a plant is killing someone. And even then, they have to be worth saving," he added as an afterthought, grinning.

"Very funny. How do you have time for it all?" she asked.

"I have a very, very, _very_ understanding partner. Who helps me grade papers on the weekend, when we'd both rather be doing something dirty in the greenhouse that has nothing to do with gardening. Isn't that right, love?" he asked, grinning over Ginny's shoulder.

"Right," Dennis said, his voice rough. He was silent as he moved to take Neville's hand, a brief yet intense smile on his face as he looked up at his partner.

"I might let you two be alone. Don't scare the snapping dragons," Ginny said, grinning briefly.

Neville just laughed, nudging her towards the door. "Far too late for that, Gin. See you later."

...

End of the eighteenth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

Morrigan was so excited about having met Neville that she didn't realise she hadn't asked for his autograph until she was halfway through her lunch. On Ginny's advice, she decided to wait until the end of the day to ask.

 

"I wonder if they'll get Mrs. Scamander to teach a class next? That would be amazing," Morrigan said, grinning.

 

"You need to calm down a bit, Morrigan. You're going to be the only person to have a heart attack from being this excited about classes," Jordan said, squeezing her hand gently.

 

Across from them, Draco and Blaise looked amused at Morrigan's response to _Neville Longbottom_.

 

Ginny swallowed the bite of her sandwich and frowned slightly. "Mrs. Scamander... You mean Luna?"

 

"You know her too?" Morrigan gasped. "How do you know so many famous people?"

 

The silence that fell at the table was almost palpable, and Ginny licked her lips briefly, trying to bring any sort of moisture back to her desert-dry mouth.

 

"We went to Hogwarts together."

 

 _We went to war together_.

 

She didn't let herself continue the thought, biting down on her tongue hard so she wouldn't well up and start crying in the middle of the cafeteria as the memories of all of her deceased family and friends came to the front of her mind.

 

"I'm going to the gym. I'll see you later," Ginny said abruptly, standing up and leaving without another word.

 

"Did I say something wrong?" Morrigan asked, her eyes slightly wide.

 

Surprisingly, it was Claudia who answered. "Ginevra fought together in the Final Battle with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. When she said that she went to Hogwarts with them, she meant that they fought in the war together."

 

"You mean ... _she_ was one of the Angels of Death?" Morrigan whispered, staring at Draco and Blaise for confirmation. "I heard that there was a redhead, but her name was always kept out of the press. I mean, Mrs. Scamander didn't even admit that she'd been one of the Angels until two years ago."

 

"Oh, dear gods... I'd forgotten about that nickname," Blaise groaned softly.

 

"It wasn't even the worst one. Wasn't there something about a Red Trio, to offset the Gryffindor-Golden Trio?" Draco replied, shaking his head.

 

"I think you mean the Crimson Trio," Blaise corrected, grinning slightly.

 

Draco snorted. "Sounds like a code for a woman's time of the month."

 

"Well, I **was** going to have tomato sauce, but I think I might just have the mustard instead," Jordan muttered, frowning and pushing the condiment bottle away.

 

"I apologise for my friend's crude behaviour. I'll make sure he leaves you to eat in peace," Blaise said, almost pulling Draco out of his chair in order to leave the cafeteria.

 

Claudia's neck actually cracked from following their fast departure out of the crowded room.

 

"Gymnasium or shooting gallery?" Draco asked quietly, straightening his robes as they walked down the corridor.

 

"She did say gym," he replied softly.

 

Draco nodded in response and they quickened their pace, trying to make it seem as if they weren't rushing at all.

 

Ginny was sitting in the room with the wooden dummy, her eyes closed as she tried to clear her mind of its thoughts. She took a deep breath, expelling though her mouth loudly, trying to push the thoughts out with the air.

 

"Ginevra? Are you okay?" Blaise asked, entering the room with Draco beside him.

 

She opened her eyes, shrugging her shoulders briefly. "I've been worse. Just get caught up in my thoughts sometimes, you know?" she murmured, looking at the dummy rather than them.

 

"We understand completely," Draco said, moving to sit beside her. "I mean, knowing that Longbottom has a fan is just going to keep me awake for nights on end."

 

"I thought that was my job?" Blaise retorted, smirking wickedly.

 

Ginny grinned slightly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes, and she kept her gaze on the dummy.

 

There was a sound of a match striking, and before her eyes, a small flame dragon appeared, it's wings flapping to keep it in the air.

 

Amazed at the tiny creature, she looked over to Draco and Blaise, too stunned to say anything. She'd never seen anything like it before. Outside, the wireless began to play a neutral song. The dragon disappeared with a flick of Draco's wand.

 

Sighing softly, Ginny stood up, her wand pointed at the dummy. It dodged the hex, but as Blaise and Draco began to attack it with her, it was soon a mess of smoke and singed wood.

 

For the rest of the lunch break, they continued to practice their spells and aim against the dummy.

 

...

 

At the end of the day, after Morrigan had received Neville's autograph and finally left, Ginny stayed back to talk with him. She only grinned slightly on seeing the hickey on his neck that hadn't been there that morning, and silently hoped that Dennis and Neville hadn't screwed in the chair she was sitting on.

 

"Why don't we go out for dinner? It's more comfortable than sitting on these chairs," Neville added, his eyes flicking to the recording disc on the floor.

 

"Okay. Will Dennis be here soon?" she asked with a smile.

 

"Already here," Dennis said from behind her.

 

Ginny had no idea how he could be so _silent_ that she didn't even hear him breathing. She unclenched her hand, and turned to smile at him.

 

"Do you want to go anywhere specific for dinner?" Neville asked Dennis.

 

"Not _The Three Broomsticks_ ," he muttered.

 

"Of course," he replied with a brief nod.

 

Ginny raised her eyebrow slightly, wondering at Dennis' hostility.

 

"They refused to open their door to him after the Battle of Hogwarts," Neville explained. "Dennis still hasn't forgiven them."

 

"Not going to either," he added with a glower.

 

"I doubt I'd forgive them myself," Ginny muttered.

 

Dennis looked triumphant, and Neville shook his head with a sigh.

 

" _The Leaky Cauldron_?" Dennis suggested.

 

"I want to take you somewhere _nice_ , Dennis," Neville replied.

 

 _This seemed like it was a common argument between the two_ , Ginny thought to herself.

 

 _Of course it is. Dennis doesn't like large crowds of people, he trusts very few people, and even though he's not narcissistic, he doesn't want to go out with Neville only to have people staring and whispering about his scars_.

 

 _How can you possibly know that_? Ginny demanded of her subconscious.

 

 _You saw the way he was treated in_ The Hog's Head _, and that's one of the few places he_ ** _does_** _like to go to_.

 

Ginny remembered her own fake smile on seeing him, the brief glances from other people in the bar as Dennis had walked up to get their drinks, the ignored whispers while he'd waited to come back to the table.

 

"What about _The Horse's Hooves_?" she suggested, a new restaurant that had opened on Diagon Alley.

 

Despite the good service and food, the restaurant's location on the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley had let it down in the _Daily Prophet_ 's restaurant reviews. The large booths inside the restaurant added to the rumours of black magic deals at the tables, where no one could see others' faces unless they were sitting with them.

 

Dennis and Neville seemed to consider it, looking to each other briefly before nodding in agreement.

 

"Sounds good to me," Neville said, grinning.

 

"Great, I'm starving. I'll just let George know I'll be home late," she said, leaving to the reception's fireplace.

 

George didn't mind about her plans - in fact, he seemed pleased that she was doing something that didn't involve Cloffice, despite Dennis and Neville's jobs in the office - and told her to enjoy herself.

 

They Flooed to Ginny's office at _The Quibbler_ , and she left through the front door with them, saying goodbye to the receptionist on her way out.

 

On entering the restaurant, they were greeted by an enthusiastic man who said he was the owner of _The Horse's Hooves_ , introducing himself as Marco. He led them to a table, a waitress taking their order when he waved her over. Marco left when he was certain that their orders had been taken correctly, insisting that they call him if anything was not to their satisfaction.

 

Ginny grinned slightly; Marco reminded her of her Great Uncle Barnabus after he'd had a glass of Firewhisky when her Great Aunt Muriel wasn't looking. Neither Neville nor Dennis said anything until their drinks had arrived, and Ginny was quiet as well, sure that they had a reason for their silence.

 

After she'd placed their drinks on the table and the waitress left, Dennis tapped his wand on the table as if he had a nervous habit. Across from him, Ginny could see the look of concentration on his face as he performed a spell. Neville dropped his wand, cursing quietly and hurrying to pick it up in a long motion that Ginny thought was awfully similar to the one needed to create a silencing shield.

 

"No bugs," Dennis announced.

 

"Okay, now we can talk freely," Neville said with a grin. "And no one will hear us unless we want them to," he added.

 

"Do you do that at every restaurant you go to?" Ginny asked, frowning slightly.

 

"Yes, but not every time we go. The shields last for a long time, and we can just be particular about the place we sit the next time Dennis and I go out to eat."

 

"Do you find bugs very often?"

 

"Not yet, but I'd rather be safe than sorry," Dennis replied.

 

She nodded in a small amount of understanding. Ginny wondered if Cloffice was just a place that turned people into completely paranoid versions of themselves, always watching over their shoulder for a monster that didn't exist.

 

"So how are you working for Cloffice _and_ teaching at Hogwarts?" Ginny asked Neville.

 

"I was recruited by the Centaur Liaison Office soon after the Battle of Hogwarts due to my knowledge about plants. The Ministry needed their doses of Veritaserum to be strengthened and last longer when used on alleged Death Eaters. In order to escape the red parchments and bureaucracy of such a decision, the Minister of Magic requested it unofficially through the Cloffice, which lead to the Director recruiting me. Apparently, Professors Snape and Moody had discussed my love of plants during Order meetings, and I'd been recommended for recruitment after graduating from Hogwarts by the previous Director, Sirius."

 

"Sirius? _Black_?" she said in disbelief.

 

Neville nodded. "I was just as surprised and shocked as you were, but it makes a lot of sense if you think about it properly. He was stuck in Grimmauld Place with nothing to do for all that time, and who better to run a secret organisation within the Ministry than someone who wasn't meant to exist? He was the one who introduced the Animagus part of the training."

 

Ginny could only nod. She'd think about that in more detail later, but Neville had made sense.

 

"After the battle in the Ministry, when Sirius died, all of his recommendations were put aside until a new Director could take over. By the time my name was rediscovered two years later, the entire Cloffice had had a major overhaul by that Director. I'm not sure if you remember my first job, but I initially worked in the Ministry's Department of Domestic and Wild Flora."

 

"I remember that," Ginny said with a quick grin. "You told me how much you hated the job because half of the people that came in didn't know the difference between a Devil's Snare and a Demon's Trap."

 

"It's all in the shape of the leaves," Dennis muttered, sipping at his Butterbeer.

 

Neville looked pleased that Dennis knew the difference and Ginny had remembered his complaint about the job. "Well, that job was my first cover. It only lasted for a year, thankfully," he added, grinning. "Then, after Pansy was captured, I went with George and the rest of the team to get her away from the rogue Death Eaters. We got her out, but the Director died in the process, and she became the new Director. I swear she thinks of the job as a punishment," he muttered with a shake of his head. "Anyway, I got injured in the process and Pansy let me choose a job that I'd enjoy. I chose teaching at Hogwarts. I only just started teaching classes at Cloffice last year at Pansy's request..."

 

Ginny was still reeling from the thought of George and Neville in a mission to save Pansy, but she was stopped from asking any questions or voicing her shock when the waitress brought their plates of food over. They thanked her, waiting until the waitress left to continue talking.

 

"So what do you do at Hogwarts that relates to the Cloffice?"

 

"I keep an eye out for any kids who could be recruited when they've graduated and give my recommendations to Pansy at the end of each year. I run the duelling club there as well, so it helps some of them prepare. Some of them accept, others don't," he said with a brief shrug.

 

"Professor McGonagall has allowed the duelling club to continue?" Ginny asked in surprise.

 

"Not exactly," Neville said, grinning.

 

She chuckled and then focused on her food. Twenty minutes later, when they had all finished eating, Ginny restarted the conversation, this time looking to Dennis.

 

"Do you still see your parents, Dennis?"

 

There was a second of surprise on his face, and then he nodded briefly. "Neville makes me see them six times a year, once for each of our birthdays and Colin's deathday, and for Christmas dinner."

 

"We have Christmas Eve with my parents and Gran," Neville added.

 

Dennis scowled at the thought, not fond of Augusta in the slightest. He hated the way she put Neville down, how nothing seemed to be good enough for her, and her constant pessimism.

 

"Dennis' father loves me," Neville said with a bright grin, making Dennis smile once more. "His dad makes the best caramel fudge. He says it's something to do with the fresh milk, but I think he's really a wizard and just hiding it."

 

"If he was a wizard, I hope he'd use magic for something more than fudge," Ginny said with a raised eyebrow.

 

Dennis chuckled in response. "That's what I say."

 

"You can't say anything unless you've tasted it," Neville said, glaring at Ginny's expression. "And you're not getting any the next time your dad sends us a batch," he said to Dennis, his arms folded over his chest.

 

Glowering at him, Dennis tugged on Neville's hand. "That's not fair. You're not allowed to do that!" he said, threading his fingers between Neville's.

 

"You just wait until I tell your dad," he muttered, but his grin gave him away.

 

Dennis didn't reply, but he pulled their joined hands up so he could kiss Neville's knuckles lightly.

 

"So how is your training going, Gin? Surviving?" Neville asked, looking amused.

 

"Somewhat... It's a bit strenuous, but I'm enjoying it more than I thought I would. I'm not even so annoyed about the early morning starts anymore," she added, grinning.

 

"Wow, you _must_ like it," he replied with a laugh.

 

"I'm looking forward to doing the actual job; it'll be interesting to see what I can actually do with all of this training when I've finished."

 

Ginny frowned slightly, experiencing a sense of deja vu. _She'd said something similar to Neville before, hadn't she_?

 

Beneath the table, Neville's hand gripped Dennis', their faces not showing the emotions they were feeling. Something started beeping, and Neville cursed softly, checking his pockets for his Alarm Quill.

 

"I'm sorry, but we've got to go now," he said, twisting the feather to stop the noise. "I've got a staff meeting in half an hour."

 

Ginny nodded, standing and paying for her share of the bill. Dennis and Neville waited until she left the table to get out of their side, the former shaking her hand and the latter giving her a hug.

 

"You take care, okay?" Ginny said, smiling at them.

 

"Always do," Neville replied, Dennis nodding in agreement.

 

"We should catch up another time," she added.

 

"We will," Neville promised. "Go on then, it's late and I'm sure you're tired," he said, glancing at his pocket watch.

 

Ginny nodded, thanking Marco for the lovely food, before leaving the restaurant to Apparate.

 

Neville and Dennis moved back into the booth, Neville sighing heavily.

 

"You think she's beginning to remember?" Dennis asked.

 

He nodded in response. "I'll get George to monitor her dreams again, and make sure she's coping with the memories."

 

"What do we tell Pansy?"

 

"The truth: that Ginevra's starting to remember, and we're monitoring the situation."

 

The Alarm Quill sounded again, and with another twist, it was turned off completely. Neville leaned across the booth to kiss Dennis.

 

"I'll see you tonight, love."

 

He nodded in response, watching as Neville went to the fireplace to Floo to his greenhouse office at Hogwarts. Waiting a moment to make sure that no one followed Neville, Dennis stood and left to Apparate to their home.

 

...

 

"Lift the swords carefully. You will not learn a thing if you're in the hospital ward for the remainder of the week," their instructor said, looking over them to ensure they took her words seriously.

 

Lifting her own sword, she used her other hand to raise her wand.

 

"By the end of the week, you'll be able use a sword as an extension of your body, as well as your wand and magic. First things first, I want everyone to put their wands away. You cannot work with both at the same time without experience."

 

Reluctantly, everyone put their wands away, Ginny slipping hers into a holster on her hip. She looked to the remaining swords in the armoury, which they'd spent the first half of the lesson learning. Katanas, fencing swords known as foils, sabres, longswords, short swords, duelling swords, scimitars, and a seemingly endless number of daggers. Anything that was sharp, pointy, and bigger than a needle was kept in this particular armoury. Their instructor began talking again, and Ginny gave her attention to her once more.

 

"Now move forward and grab your weapon. Stand a few feet apart from each other while we work through the motions."

 

She smiled at them briefly, beginning with the first and most simple demonstration of how to hold the sword. They copied the motion, and began their lesson.

 

Two hours later, Ginny was finally allowed to let go of her sword. Her muscles were aching, she was covered in sweat, and her hand was cramped into what felt a permanent fist around the hilt of the sword. She doubted she'd be able to hold her fork at lunchtime.

 

On either side of her, the others looked just as bad. Morrigan was on her knees, her hair sweaty and clinging to her as she heaved for breath. Claudia was resting against the hilt of her sword, her shirt and hair suffering the same fate as Morrigan's. Jordan was lying on his back, the sword clutched on his chest and his hair spiked up from sweat.

 

Across from them, their instructor hadn't even broken a sweat yet, and she grinned at them broadly. "We've got two whole days of this, I hope you've got the stamina to last," she tutted. "When you come back after lunch, we'll work on using the moves you just learned against opponents."

 

Ginny wondered if that meant each other or against dummies, but the door opened, and she took her escape gratefully.

 

"Is it possible for exercise to kill you?" Jordan asked with a groan as they headed up to the cafeteria.

 

"Probably not, but swords definitely can," Ginny replied with a slight grin.

 

"I don't care if I can't hold my cutlery, I'm so hungry, I'm just going to stick my face on my plate and chew," Morrigan grumbled.

 

"What on earth happened to the lot of you?" Blaise asked when they sat down with their trays across from him and Draco.

 

"Sword training," Ginny replied, flexing her fingers with a wince.

 

"Oh, that's understandable then."

 

"We completely sympathise," Draco added. He reached across the table, taking Ginny's hand in his own.

 

"W-what are you doing?" she asked in surprise.

 

 _Morrigan, Jordan and Claudia were sitting_ ** _right there_** _, for the gods' sakes_!

 

He began massaging circles into her hand, his thumbs working on her sore wrist.

 

"We're learning massage, so I'm practicing," Draco replied, but she was sure that his fingers were lingering more than normal.

 

"Hey, aren't you meant to be in Training Centre Three?" Jordan asked with a frown.

 

Claudia glanced to Ginny for her reaction at Jordan's words, but Ginny kept her eyes on Draco's ministrations and refused to look up.

 

"We had to talk to Pansy about some highly classified information, and decided to eat lunch here for today," Blaise replied simply, shrugging.

 

"You'll want to get here quicker tomorrow, or you won't get a table," Draco added, smirking.

 

"Don't worry about that, I'll make sure we get seats," Morrigan muttered, holding her fork awkwardly.

 

"Here, let me practice on you," Blaise said, holding out his hand to take hers.

 

Morrigan looked at her plate of food, warring between her stomach's desire to eat, and her hand's desire to clutch the fork like a sword. Sighing, she gave him her hand to massage.

 

"Thank you, Draco," Ginny said a few moments later, flexing her wrist in relief.

 

"I can do yours too," Draco offered to Jordan.

 

"All right, thanks."

 

At the end of the table, Claudia watched as they all had their hands and wrists massaged. She perked up when Blaise finished working on Morrigan, and immediately held out her hand.

 

"Please? It _really_ hurts," she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

 

Blaise nodded briefly, taking her hand reluctantly.

 

"So what other things are you learning in Training Centre Three?" Morrigan asked.

 

"We can't say," Draco said with a grin. "We've already told you too much."

 

"Yeah, we should go before Pansy finds out. If she does, then I doubt our bodies will ever be found," Blaise said, letting go of Claudia and stood up to leave.

 

"Surely I'm not _that_ frightening," Pansy dead panned.

 

"Yes, actually, you are," Draco replied.

 

"And on that note, we're leaving," Blaise said quickly, grabbing Draco's hand and pulling him out of the cafeteria before he could say anything else.

 

"Pansy may just kill me for that," Draco muttered when they were out of earshot.

 

"It'd be worth it if you completed your mission," he replied, glancing at him briefly.

 

"You really think I'd let you drag me out of there if I hadn't?" he questioned, smirking.

 

In the cafeteria, Ginny picked up her napkin, discreetly taking the small square of parchment out of the corner she'd seen Draco slip it into earlier, and put it in her bag.

 

...

 

Decoding the note didn't take as long as Ginny expected. Draco and Blaise had used a simple code, placing the letter B in every second letter of their note.

 

 _DrbacboabndbBlbaibsebinbvibtebyobutbobbeabtebstbsubbjbecbtsbotbhabttbhebycbanbprbacbtibsebthbeibrmbasbsabgibngbtebchbnibqubesb. Stbaybinbyoburboffbicbeibfyboubwibshbtobpabrtbicbipbatbe_.

 

 _Draco and Blaise invite you to be a test subject so that they can practise their massage techniques. Stay in your office if you wish to participate_.

 

Looking at the note for a moment, Ginny wondered if she should agree to their invitation. Deciding to think on it and make a decision after she'd finished at Training Centre Two for the day, Ginny destroyed their note and hurried to her class.

 

...

 

 _Okay, there was no question about it_ , Ginny decided hours later. _She_ ** _definitely_** _needed a massage_.

 

Everything was aching; her back, arms, hands, wrists, all of it was throbbing with a dull ache that seemed to flare the moment she moved.

 

 _You didn't have to push yourself so hard. I'm sure they would have massaged you without you being in so much pain_ , that little voice muttered.

 

Ignoring the voice, Ginny made her way to the closest fireplace. She let George know she would be home late, and then Flooed to her office. When she was inside, Ginny moved her body so her back cracked, stretching her arms above her head to ease her aching limbs.

 

"Are you all right, Ginevra?" Blaise's voice asked behind her.

 

Turning, she smiled reassuringly at him and Draco. "Just a bit sore from the day," she admitted.

 

"Well, let's see if we can rectify that, shall we?" Draco asked, stepping forward and offering her his arm.

 

Laughing softly, she accepted his arm, linking her free arm with Blaise's. Without another word, they Apparated out of her office.

 

...

 

End of the nineteenth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	20. Chapter 20

Ginny steadied herself as she arrived in a large foyer, Draco and Blaise on either side of her. Looking around, she saw a large staircase on either side of the foyer, white and black veins of marble chasing each other up and down the stairs, spreading out onto the floor beneath them.

 

"Would you like some wine before we start?" Draco asked.

 

Blaise took her outer robe and hung it in a coat closet. She simply stared for a moment, the very idea of a closet purely for _coats_ stunning her more than the obnoxious staircase, or maybe it was a combination of both? At the Burrow, the coat rack had been overtaken by numerous items, none of which seemed to be _coats_. Ginny briefly wondered what Draco and Blaise would think if they saw the lanky frame that was still missing a leg, despite her mother's various comments about it to her father. Realising that they were waiting for an answer, she nodded quickly.

 

"Wine would be wonderful," she replied, swallowing briefly and forcing herself to look away from the coat closet.

 

Allowing herself to be led into the parlour room, Ginny didn't have much time to look around before she was offered a goblet. Accepting the wine with a small smile, she sipped slowly, watching as they did the same.

 

"You look nervous, are you all right?" Blaise asked, frowning slightly.

 

"Fine, fine," she said, far too quickly to be believable. "So where am I? Whose manor is this?" Ginny asked, looking between Draco and Blaise.

 

"You can't tell from the decor alone? I **am** disappointed," Draco said, his eyebrow raised and a grin twitching on his lips.

 

"You haven't exactly left me a lot of time to look around at my pleasure, have you?" she retorted, grinning.

 

"Well, we are now. Go ahead, have a look around and see if you can tell where we are and who this house belongs to," Blaise said, giving her a playful nudge to the door.

 

"You're not coming with me?"

 

"No, I'm going to stay right here and snog Draco senseless, or just snog him until you get the answer right. Whichever one comes first," Blaise replied, smirking as he pulled Draco across to him.

 

Ginny watched them for a moment and reluctantly backed out of the room. She wondered if they knew what the sight of them kissing could do to people... Turning around, the door closing behind her, Ginny had another sip of her wine, hoping to ease her nerves. It was all well and good to agree to this, but she was still allowed to be nervous at the prospect.

 

Walking along the hallways, it was easy to tell that she was in Zabini Manor from the portraits alone. The people in the paintings watched her, a few of the men glaring as she stopped to read the small plaques on their frames.

 

"Do you mind, young lady?! The least you could do is introduce yourself before taking it upon yourself to _touch_ my frame! Why, you could be a Muggleborn, and you've just sullied my frame for the rest of time!"

 

"Oh, do stop your ranting and open your eyes, Herbert. Can't you see who the young lady is by her hair and complexion alone?" the woman in the frame next to him asked, smiling down at Ginny.

 

"Ah, a Weasley," he replied, frowning as he looked at her over the rim of his glasses. "Well, at least you're a pureblood... I suggest you stay out of the armoury. That's where Bassanio's portrait is, and he won't care if you've got blood purer than Merlin himself."

 

Frowning in confusion, Ginny looked to the woman, Viola, wondering what Herbert was talking about.

 

"Bassanio was rejected by a redhead in his youth, and never forgave the slight. He takes it upon himself to yell obscenities at any person with red hair that comes near him. There has been tale of him controlling the knights in armour that are located in that room, and using them to attack any redheads, but no one has verified it. I still maintain that he made the rumour up himself," she added in amusement.

 

"Blaise always threatens to tie Bassanio to a portrait of a redheaded woman whenever his language gets too coarse," Herbert said with a chuckle.

 

"Are you looking for anything in particular, my dear? We will be glad to assist you," Viola said kindly.

 

"Speak for yourself, woman. I've got a bridge game to get to," Herbert muttered, leaving his frame without a word of farewell.

 

"Not really, I was just looking around, trying to find out where the Manor actually is," Ginny replied to Viola's question.

 

"Oh, for that, you should definitely go to the sitting room," she said authoritatively. "I'll take you there now, come," she said, stepping into Herbert's portrait and heading down the hallway.

 

Ginny followed the purple-robed woman, deciding that it was as good a plan as any to find out where she was. Five minutes later, standing before the sitting room, she was thankful to have someone to follow. She'd taken two lefts, three rights and one staircase to get to there, and would have had no hope of finding it herself.

 

"Thank you, Viola," Ginny said, opening the door and stepping inside.

 

Before she could light her wand, a chandelier lit up above her, throwing light across the room. The sitting room was larger and much more modern than Ginny expected it to be. Love seats were by the window, armchairs by the now-roaring fireplace, but there were several large cube bookcases in the middle of the room, knick-knacks and ornaments placed on the numerous shelves.

 

Making her way over to one of the bookcases, Ginny looked at everything in curiosity. A set of Russian babushka dolls were displayed on a shelf, an unopened bottle of vodka sitting behind it. She grinned slightly, figuring that Blaise had put the bottle there to torture Draco. A souvenir wand was sitting upright in a holder, the Eiffel Tower painstakingly etched into the handle. Something on a bookcase further back in the room shined brightly, glinting in the low light from the chandelier. Frowning briefly, Ginny made her way over to the bright object. It was a glass plate, and didn't seem as though it was from any particular place like the other ornaments were. While the plate was made primarily from glass, there were threads of green and black running through it, careful lines blown by a wizard glass sculptor.

 

 _Now, how did she know that_?

 

Her question wasn't answered, but as she continued to look at the plate, Ginny could almost see the sculptor in her mind. _He was an older white-haired man, blind in one eye, and by the way that he moved slowly around his tiny shop, it was obvious that he should have retired years ago. She said as much, but he replied in a firm voice that he enjoyed his work and would not give it up so long as he still had breath. His hands were weathered and wrinkled, trembling at times, but when he began to work his hands became steadier, gentler, bringing the glass to life beneath his fingers. As she watched him patiently, she became entranced by the green and black lines he wove into his work, their colours shining in the low light of his fireplace_.

 

"There you are, Ginevra. We were beginning to wonder if Bassanio had attacked you," Blaise said, his voice jolting her from the image playing in her mind.

 

 _Had it been a memory? Or just a result of an overactive imagination_? Ginny wondered.

 

"What were you looking at?" Draco asked, making his way over. He stopped short on seeing the plate, and Ginny was too distracted by her own thoughts to see the worried glance they shared.

 

"So, have you figured out whose manor it is, and where we are?" Blaise asked, leading her away from the bookcase, his arm draped around her shoulder to stop her from looking back.

 

Taking the glass plate, his fingers touching the lines gently, Draco Apparated silently, reappearing a moment later, empty-handed.

 

"Zabini Manor, and somewhere Italy?"

 

The sky wasn't filled with England's usual clouds, and she could see a large expanse of ocean to the left of the picturesque view.

 

"Correct," Blaise said, grinning at her. "Now, are you still up for that massage?"

 

Ginny smiled and nodded, letting both of them lead her out of the room and to a different room entirely, where a bed was set up, candles flickering and soft music playing.

 

"We'll leave you while you strip down, and there's a towel to keep yourself modest from Draco's perverted gaze," Blaise said with a wink, ignoring his lover's cry of indignation. "When you're ready, lie on the bed face down and call us to come back," he added, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand before pulling Draco out of the room.

 

"I could have stripped her," Ginny was sure she heard Draco say, the door closing and blocking out anything else he might have said.

 

Shaking her head slightly, she removed her clothes, socks and shoes, and placed everything in the wicker basket that was sitting on a small table near the bed. Wrapping a towel around her body, Ginny followed Blaise's instructions, calling out for them to enter once she was lying down, her face in the small cut out circle at the end of the bed.

 

"All right, I'm going to start by massaging your shoulders and back, and Draco will work on your legs and feet. Are you ticklish?" Blaise asked, with what she was sure was a grin.

 

"No, not really," she replied.

 

"Good. Just relax and listen to the music," Draco said, his voice soft.

 

The hole that she had her head in made it difficult to nod, so she murmured a sound of agreement instead. Blaise adjusted her head gently so she wouldn't be uncomfortable, and after rubbing a scented oil on his hands, he began to massage her back. Draco's hands were on her legs a moment later, both men silent as they worked out the tension and knots in her body. Blaise kneaded her back gently, Draco relaxing the taut muscles in her legs with circular motions. Their ministrations soon turned her into a soft malleable human shape of utter content. Their fingers worked their own brand of magic on her body, and she decided to do as they'd suggested. Ginny closed her eyes and listened to the music, a content smile on her face.

 

An hour later, Ginny woke up, her limbs feeling deliciously heavy and relaxed. Draco and Blaise were no longer touching her, so she presumed that they had finished.

 

"Would you like some tea, or water?" Blaise asked beside her.

 

"Water would be nice," she murmured, realising that she was thirsty. "But I don't want to move," she murmured, happy to stay boneless on the bed for the rest of the week.

 

Her stomach rumbled in protest, demanding her attention. Ginny was determined to ignore it and keep sleeping.

 

Draco chuckled when he heard the noise. "We have dinner prepared as well."

 

 _Food or boneless bliss_? Her stomach gurgled almost immediately, and she glared down at the floor.

 

"All right, I'll get up," Ginny said with a heavy sigh.

 

"We'll wait outside so we can escort you to the dining room," Blaise murmured, stroking her shoulder gently before leaving with Draco.

 

Taking her time, Ginny sat up and sipped at the water they'd left on the table beside her. When she felt hydrated enough, she dressed, checking in a transfigured mirror to find a circle marked into her face from the bed. Frowning slightly, she rubbed at the marks, stopping in resignation when it just made her face red. Opening the door, Ginny saw Draco and Blaise kissing, the former pressing the latter against the wall, his hands threaded into Blaise's hair. Draco stepped away when his shoulder was tapped, and smirked over at Ginny.

 

"Sorry, love. Couldn't resist."

 

Her eyes widened slightly at the term of endearment, wondering just when they'd gone from a first-name basis to calling each other pet names, and _love_ at that.

 

"I hope you're ready for dinner, Ginevra," Blaise said smoothly, stepping past Draco. "The house elves have probably cooked enough for a small army, and I can only hope that their cooking is as good as yours was," he said charmingly, his hand slipping into hers.

 

Ginny laughed softly, shaking her head. "It was just pasta, and I sincerely doubt it compares to the house elves' cooking."

 

"Well, we won't know until we try it ourselves, will we? Come on, let's go eat," Blaise said, taking Draco's hand and leading them down to the dining room.

 

...

 

After Ginevra had Flooed away, Draco sighed and looked to Blaise, a hint of guilt on his face.

 

"I hope you're bloody happy, Draco. You could see that she was already confused by the plate, and then you had to go and call her _love_. She hated it the last time, too."

 

"She didn't **hate** it... She just took some time to get used to it," Draco muttered. "Besides, why did you still have that plate on display? We had to hide _everything_ , not everything except that plate."

 

Blaise muttered under his breath, glaring down at the floor. "I'd put it at the back, and I really didn't think she'd go in there. It was meant to be a massage and that's all," he said, sighing. "This is driving me insane. Maybe it would have been better if..."

 

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Zabini," Draco said icily.

 

He nodded, already feeling guilty for having said even that much. "I just don't want to lose her again," Blaise said, sighing. "Come on, let's go to bed. You can massage me until I'm a puddle."

 

"I'd prefer to massage you until you're hard," he replied, pulling Blaise against his body and kissing him eagerly, nipping at his bottom lip.

 

Blaise smirked against his lips. "That works too."

 

Draco chuckled, leading his lover to the bedroom.

 

...

 

"Okay, who here has created their own spell before? Come on, hands up," the instructor said, looking at the four of them.

 

Ginny raised her hand slowly, wondering why there was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that this wouldn't be considered a good thing.

 

"And, what is it? Demonstrate the spell," the instructor said, a dummy appearing beside her.

 

Doing the Bat Bogey Hex, Ginny frowned slightly when the dummy was attacked by bats. She didn't realise that dummies **had** snot in the first place.

 

"When did you create it? A bit of information would be helpful, instead of you just standing there looking like a stunned Kneazle."

 

"It's a Bat Bogey Hex. I made it when I was fourteen... I'm really surprised that it even worked on the dummy, though," she added, frowning again.

 

The instructor seemed to pale slightly, but it could have been a trick of the light.

 

"Congratulations, you created a spell when you were _fourteen_. I'm impressed, really," she said, sounding anything but impressed. "What have you created since then? Nothing, you say? Oh, why am I not surprised?" she sneered.

 

Ginny gripped her wand, refusing to rise to the bait. She had no idea what she'd done to make this woman hostile towards her, but she doubted that hitting her with a Bat Bogey Hex would help resolve things.

 

"No one else has made a thing? Why not? Not a hint of creativity or curiosity in you?" she asked, looking at the other three in turn.

 

Morrigan paled slightly. She'd only used her wand out of necessity when she was younger, and the very thought of attempting to create a brand new spell made her feel ill. Unforgivables had started out the same way, once upon a time.

 

"By the end of the day, you'll be expected to create a brand new spell. It doesn't have to be something useful, or even mature," she added, glancing at the dummy that was still being attacked by bats, "it just has to _work_. Now, take a seat, and we'll begin," she said, making the dummy disappear without a wand in sight.

 

There were no chairs around, and Ginny realised that they were meant to create their own. Plucking a hair from her head, she transfigured it into a fairly normal chair, the cushioning the same colour as her hair. Morrigan had changed her bag, Jordan transfigured his outer robes, and Claudia used a tube of lipstick.

 

"Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation or parade? You created a chair, congratulations. Now, sit down," the instructor said, rolling her eyes at them.

 

They hurried to do so, the sour woman making each of them feel uneasy in one way or another. Ginny didn't know if it was a reassuring thing that she seemed to be rude to everyone, rather than just herself. Realising that the instructor was beginning to talk once more, she hurried to give the woman her attention. Ginny doubted the instructor would welcome ridiculous questions or enjoy repeating herself.

 

Hours later, when a bell sounded to indicate that it was lunchtime, Ginny's head was spinning from an overload of information. Creating professional spells took more work than something as small and relatively simple as her Bat Bogey Hex.

 

"When you come back - if you come back, that is," the woman added with a sneer, "you'll be expected to start working on your own spells. By the end of the day, you should have something new and original created."

 

They all left, and if Morrigan's expression was anything to go by, Ginny would say she was feeling as apprehensive of this class as she was.

 

...

 

Pansy closed and locked her office door, a quick spell stopping the recording discs that were on her floor and ceiling. Heading into her adjoining office, she opened the cupboard that held her Pensieve, white wisps swirling in front of her. As she watched, images of recruits, new and old, began to float up in front of her. Pansy swirled her wand through the misty water, a spell unlocking some of her most secret memories, and an image became clearer in the liquid. Without a second of hesitation, she lowered her head, falling into the memory...

 

She landed on her feet easily, taking a stand behind herself almost a year ago. Her younger self was sitting at her desk, reading over briefing parchments from the recruits in the field. Her secretary, Lin, firecalled her to let her know that an undercover agent had requested an emergency call over a secure line. Accepting the call, Pansy watched as Lin's face disappeared to reveal that of one Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley.

 

"Code name, Red Fox. Requesting immediate extraction and protection," Ginevra said, glancing over her shoulder nervously.

 

"Red Fox, state the emergency," Pansy replied, her hands gripping her chair's armrests tightly. "Has your cover been compromised?"

 

Ginevra shook her head, tucking a stray length of her brunette hair behind her ear. "No, my cover has not been compromised," she replied, licking her lips nervously. "I've discovered what they're after. I need to get out, I need to get safe."

 

There was such a tone of urgency to her tone that Pansy couldn't help but nod in response. "Very well. An extraction will be scheduled for tonight at your usual rendezvous point. Storm and Snow will meet you."

 

"No! Not them. Please, not them," Ginevra pleaded. "I just need to get out, and I can't see them, not yet. Is the Herbologist available? He's the only one I trust other than the Holey Forge, and I know he's been sent elsewhere at the moment. Please," she begged.

 

Pansy waited for a moment, searching Ginevra's face for some sort of emotion to provide her with more information. All she saw was that the girl was terrified, and beyond paranoid. She was looking over her shoulder every few seconds, her eyes wide with pure fear.

 

"I will contact the Herbologist. Go to your rendezvous point in three hours, someone will be there to meet you. Bring everything you require to prove and justify your accusations."

 

"Of course. Thank you," Ginevra whispered, the firecall ending a second later.

 

Pansy closed the grate, and then opened it again to contact the Herbologist.

 

"Pansy, is everything all right?"

 

"Ginevra needs an extraction. She wants you to pick her up. Are you available?"

 

"For Ginevra, definitely. Just give me an hour to get ready," Neville replied, closing the grate.

 

The memory jumped ahead to almost five hours later. Pansy was used to the sudden switch, but Ginevra's bodily state never failed to make her cringe inwardly. The girl, still a brunette due to the dye rather than a temporary spell, was beaten, bloody, and bruised. Pansy could count her white patches of skin on one hand, with the rest of her injured in one way or another. Her arm was bandaged, blood already staining the white cloth beyond repair.

 

"I had to demolish the building in order to escape. No one realised I escaped, and I'll be presumed dead, perished in the fire."

 

"Was it necessary to destroy the _entire_ building?" Pansy asked with a brief frown.

 

"It was absolutely necessary," Ginevra replied with an adamant nod, wincing when pain seared through her head and neck. "I found what they're looking for, and I need to forget it. I need to forget all of this. It's put everything and everyone I know in danger. I can't have all of this knowledge if they do capture me. I need to be innocent again. Innocent enough that I won't register on their radars," she added, her words rambling with her paranoia and concern.

 

"Ginevra, calm down. Start from the beginning; tell me what happened, and then you can tell me exactly what it is they're looking for," she said, pouring tea for both of them.

 

Pansy sighed, stepping back and leaving the memory before it continued to play. She knew the conversation off by heart and had no real desire to repeat it all over again. Not yet, at least.

 

...

 

Ginny pulled out her wand, hitting the dummy with her newly created spell. The dummy fell back immediately, writhing in pain. Phantom pains from non existent wounds made the dummy howl and beat at it's body, trying to get it's invisible attacker to leave it alone.

 

"That's it? A spell that makes the person believe they're in pain? There are many variations of that spell, including one Unforgivable. Do you really expect this to be original?"

 

"Actually," Ginny said tersely, trying not to get too irritated by the instructor's tone and words, "that's not it. The main spell is underneath the phantom pain spell, which means it will go unnoticed by anyone who's hit by it."

 

There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to process her meaning.

 

"Do it again, and then you can demonstrate whatever the hell you're talking about."

 

The dummy was reset and stood up once more, free of any hexes.

 

Pointing her wand at the wooden figure once more, she hit it with her spell, watching as it writhed in pain on the floor again.

 

"Now, since it's in pain, the first thing it'll do is try to get rid of said pain," Ginny said, using a generic pain relieving spell as demonstration.

 

The dummy sat up, seeming to be free of any phantom pains it had just experienced.

 

"Not thinking of anything other than alleviating that, the person or dummy will think they've escaped an Unforgivable and try to leave. But," Ginny added, making the dummy move with a levitation spell, "it's actually being tracked with the hidden spell. No matter where the dummy goes, I'll be able to find it."

 

Morrigan and Jordan clapped quickly, Claudia joining in a moment later reluctantly. The instructor didn't seem as impressed, and with a swish of her wand, the dummy disappeared entirely.

 

"Prove it then. Tell me where the dummy is right now," she said, crossing her arms and waiting expectantly.

 

Ginny nodded, not letting herself have any negative thoughts this far into it. She'd only been allowed to make the dummy move a certain distance away from her in order to test the spell, and she sincerely hoped this really did work now. Conjuring up a map of the earth, much like the one from an earlier class, Ginny did a spell to locate the dummy. The earth spun quickly, zooming in and out of certain countries at a high speed. It made her dizzy to look at it for too long, but mere seconds later, a small green light flashed and zoomed in so quickly that Ginny felt like she was falling to the earth from a great distance.

 

"It's on Brompton Road in Harrods in Muggle London. On the fourth floor in the children's wear section," Ginny added, seeing the corresponding store map that her spell had located.

 

"Let's test that then, shall we?" a familiar voice suggested behind her.

 

Turning to see Pansy standing there, Ginny barely managed to nod before the woman Disapparated. She returned not even a minute later, dummy in hand.

 

"Very good spell. Was it your intent to use the pain spell as a way to weaken your opponent, or simply because it was easier to mask the tracking spell?" Pansy asked.

 

"Both. By weakening the opponent, they can't go as far, even if they manage to Apparate. The opponent would just think me weak or sentimental since I didn't hit them with something more powerful, and that leads to them underestimating me at a later date... The easier a spell is, the easier it is to hide something else beneath it," Ginny added.

 

She held back a frown as she remembered saying something similar a long time ago, or perhaps in a dream. _That's the second time she'd had deja vu this week_!

 

 _However, it can also raise an opponent's suspicions if it's_ ** _too_** _simple_ , the little voice said practically.

 

"Of course, but remember that it can raise your opponent's suspicions if the spell is _too_ simple. Especially if you've been fighting with stronger spells," Pansy said.

 

Ginny's eyes widened imperceptibly at her words. _She knew that Pansy hadn't used Legilimency on her, so how on earth did her subconscious - or Pansy, even - know to say that_?!

 

"Could they also assume that you're just tired? I mean, if I spent hours sending strong spell after strong spell at someone, then I'd probably use weaker spells towards the end of the fight as well, just so I wouldn't completely deplete my magic," Morrigan said.

 

Pansy nodded briefly. "They could assume that, but then you'd also be assuming what they'd assume, and one assumption is already more than enough," she said with a slight grin.

 

"All right, next up," the instructor called, glancing to Pansy to ensure that she was all right with the class continuing.

 

With a brief nod, Pansy stepped back to watch the progress of the rest of the students. This was one of the classes that she never failed to attend, as many of the recruits thought of spells that some in the field hadn't even considered. Of course, some were just plain ridiculous as they were wont to be, but others had become quite useful and integrated into Cloffice training for their agents. It would be interesting to see what spells the others in the group had created.

 

She glanced to Ginevra surreptitiously, wondering just how quickly her memories were returning. From Neville and Dennis' reports, as well as observations from George, Draco, and Blaise, it was obvious that she was remembering, but Pansy had no idea if the memories were coming back too quickly. If they were, then the potion would have to be modified so that Ginevra wouldn't become a risk to herself or those around her. It was bad enough to have to reverse the spell in the first place, but the Cloffice training she was going through now would hopefully stabilise the potion and integrate her old memories with her newer ones. It was a risky thing to do, especially with someone who had had their memory modified to the degree that Ginevra had, but it was necessary. It was the only way to keep her alive. 

 

...

 

"Improvisation is a key lesson in this job. You might not have been told it, you may not even believe it, but I can assure you that if you don't improvise on things or react to occurrences in time, it can mean the difference between life and death."

 

Ginny wasn't entirely convinced by the man's statement, but it was difficult to take someone seriously when they were wearing a fruit hat on their head. Especially since George had run out of coffee this morning, and she wasn't as awake as she could be.

 

They were standing in front of him in the only available space in the room. Along three walls were racks of costumes, outfits, shoes, accessories, and other things that Ginny didn't even know what they were or how to put them on. Besides the small space for the door into the room, the fourth wall was made up of a stage. According to her parchment, this was supposed to be a class about acting and improvisation. She sincerely doubted anything she would do for this job would involve improvising with a feather boa.

 

A quick image flashed in her mind: _Draco and Blaise tied to a bed by matching purple feather boas, her wand flicking to control the two feathers that were teasing their naked skin before her_.

 

 _Very bad thoughts to be having at this time_! Ginny told herself sternly. _Concentrate_.

 

"Go through the outfits and costumes, choose something that catches your fancy. When you've got it on, return to the stage, and we'll go about improvising a scene based on your outfit, okay?"

 

When their instructor indicated for them to go to the racks, they hurried along, grinning like children playing dress up. Which, when it was all boiled down, they really were. They were nothing more than children in the largest dress up room they'd even seen. Boxes of toy guns and plastic knives were at their feet, dresses and suits of every kind and colour, shoes and boots, hats and scarves, it was endless.

 

Ginny forced herself to calm down before she went and put something on that was just going to be ridiculous. _Even if that green dress_ ** _would_** _look bloody fantastic on her_...

 

If a scene was going to be created based on what they were wearing, then she'd need to choose something that she was comfortable performing in.

 

 _But the_ ** _dress_** _... And there's even matching shoes. Just try it on, at least! Look, there's a leg holster for weapons that can be hidden beneath it. You'd look good and have a weapon. Come on_.

 

She had no idea if that voice was her own or her subconscious, but Ginny couldn't seem to move past the green dress on the rack either way. Sighing, she grabbed the dress, hanging it over her arm before bending to pick up the green heels, two holsters, and a small array of the fake daggers and a gun.

 

Seeing a curtain nearby, Ginny stepped through into the makeshift changing room, telling herself sternly that this was just a test to see if it would work. She wouldn't wear it up on the stage, she'd just see if it all fit, and then she might wear it later.

 

The dress was zipped up, the shoes fit perfectly, the holsters were strapped to one leg and one ankle, the knives and guns were hidden by the long material sweeping down on one side of the dress, and as an afterthought, she pinned her long hair up so it rested on top of her head.

 

Before Ginny had a chance to look at herself properly in the mirror, the fitting room changed around her. What had just been a small cubicle with a small seat and tall mirror was now a large dining area, complete with a long rectangular table, three course table setting, and freshly poured wine. As Ginny was ushered to her seat, obscured and faceless people shimmered, becoming solid in moments. The moment she sat down, she knew what her objective was: to reveal the affair of the blue-robed man with the purple clad woman further down the table. He was married to the woman in a champagne robe, but the affair between himself and the purple woman had been going for close to five months now.

 

The business of who slept with whom wasn't usually Cloffice's business, but the man was the Head Auror for strategic broom manoeuvres, and his mistress was a woman from a country that had been gathering a ragtag army in the last few months. This army had started to become far more efficient than they had been previously, attacking the Aurors as if they knew exactly what they were going to do and where they were going to be. By revealing their affair, it would bring their liaison to an end, and without her source, the mistress would no longer be able to feed information to her country.

 

"Hello, Miss Sinclair, it's a pleasure to meet you," the blue robed man said, holding out a hand to shake with her.

 

Ginny shook his hand, smiling gently. "Why, thank you, Mr. Winter. Ah, this must be your wife. Jolene, if I remember correctly?" she said, holding out her hand.

 

The woman in champagne robes frowned slightly, and didn't shake. Beside her, her husband had gone a deathly shade of white.

 

"No, I am Hyacinth, actually," the woman replied, looking to her husband. "Who is Jolene? And why does Miss Sinclair think that you're married to this _Jolene_?"

 

"I ... Uh, the ... We ..." he stammered through nothing substantial.

 

Ginny slipped away, as if in embarrassment. The woman in purple - who was actually Jolene - was watching the exchange, looking as pale as her lover. A slight spell increased her emotions to have her stalking over to the arguing couple, yelling at the man who had said he was going to leave his wife for her, and yet here, he said he would never leave his wife?

 

As Ginny continued to walk away, the room melted away before her eyes. The knowledge and persona that had overcome her during her 'mission' dissipated, and she looked around to see that she was in the fitting room once more.

 

"Very interesting technique, Ginevra. It was a bit of a risk to bring up the mistress' name, but it worked out well in the end," the teacher said when she stepped out, dressed in her normal clothes again.

 

"You saw that?"

 

"Yes, that's what these rooms are designed for. Quite ingenious, don't you think?" he asked with a sweeping motion of his arms. "Of course, the risk in saying her name is that a lie could have been invented quite easily to cover it, had the man been capable of thinking with more than one brain cell at a time."

 

Ginny tried not to laugh, but simply nodded instead.

 

"We've got the rest of the day with this, so go ahead and pick another outfit. They'll all fit you, no matter what," he said, waving cheerfully as he left, the fruit hat still on his head.

 

...

 

Blaise and Draco were waiting for Ginny in her office when she stepped out of the fireplace. She was surprised at their presence, but that didn't mean she wasn't happy to see them. With a grin, she greeted Blaise first with a light kiss, just to rile Draco up, before turning to kiss him gently too.

 

"You know, you're going to have to kiss me first some day, or I'll ..."

 

"You'll what?" Ginny asked, grinning at him.

 

"I'll kiss you until you forget about _wet lips_ over there," Draco said, jerking his thumb in Blaise's direction.

 

"Wet lips?" he echoed, shaking his head.

 

"I don't think you're up to that task, Malfoy," she said, smirking at him.

 

He raised an eyebrow slightly, stepping towards her. "You don't, do you? Well," Draco drawled, pulling her close to his body, "I'll have you know, I can make Blaise into a quivering mass of pleas and moans in less than five minutes."

 

"I bet I can do it in four," Ginny said, grinning.

 

"As much as I love the idea of both of you using my body as the basis for a sexy competition like that, we **did** come here for something specific, Draco," Blaise said, stepping over to them.

 

"That can wait until after the sexy competition," he murmured, his lips already pressing on Ginny's neck, his hands caressing her shoulders.

 

She laughed, stepping back before anything else could happen. "All right, what did you come here for?"

 

"We came to ask you on a date," Blaise replied.

 

Frowning, and certain that she'd heard them wrong, Ginny looked between the two of them. "Pardon?"

 

"We want to take you on a date, separately, of course. You know us when we're together, but when Blaise and I are apart, we're just as good," Draco said with a smirk and suggestive wink.

 

"Is this part of the whole wooing thing you're trying to do?"

 

"Partly, yes. The other parts are a bit more complicated than that," Blaise said vaguely.

 

"But mainly the wooing," Draco said, still smirking.

 

"Um, all right then... It sounds great, really," she assured them when they didn't seem ecstatic at her hesitation. "So, when do you want to do this?"

 

"We'll organise a date later. We just wanted to make sure you'd say yes," Blaise said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand gently.

 

Draco hurried to copy the motion, kissing a few more times for effect.

 

"This isn't going to turn into one of those _my broom's bigger than your broom_ type of things, is it?"

 

"Oh, no, of course not. We already know who's broom's bigger," Draco said, smirking.

 

"It's mine," Blaise murmured in her ear, chuckling softly. "Come on, let's go now, Draco. I'll polish your broom if you polish mine," he called enticingly, throwing a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace.

 

"Sweeter words have never been said, I assure you," he replied, winking at Ginny. "Adieu, mon cherie," Draco said with a flourished bow.

 

"Oui, allez déjà," Ginny replied automatically. ( _Yes, go already_.)

 

 _She didn't know French. Apart from a few words to mock Phlegm - Fleur, she really had to work on calling her sister-in-law by her actual_ ** _name_** _\- and a couple of swear words to use when her mother wouldn't hear, she had no idea how to speak or understand French. Yet she'd just spoken it as if she knew exactly what she'd said_.

 

Ginny paled dramatically, and Blaise pulled Draco into the fireplace, leaving in a flash of green to a destination that probably wasn't clearly pronounced.

 

It took a minute or two, but she almost convinced herself that what she'd done had been the result of spending too much time falling asleep while listening to Fleur and Gabrielle talk. All of that sleep-listening must have sunk in, and she just suddenly happened to pick up the French language in the process. _That_ ** _had_** _to be the explanation for it_.

 

 _Yeah, right_.

 

Both her own cynical voice and the voice of her subconscious echoed the same sentiment at the exact same time. If Ginny hadn't already been freaked out by the whole speaking-French-thing, then suddenly thinking and agreeing with her subconscious _in unison_ would have raised the freak out bar substantially.

 

Ginny grabbed her outer robe, said a wooden farewell to the receptionist at the front and Flooed home. She decided that getting drunk was a very good idea.

 

...

 

End of the twentieth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 21

Ginny decided that getting drunk had been a very bad idea. The daylight seemed to be intent on killing her eyes, her stomach wouldn't settle, and her entire body felt like it was made out of a leaden squishy thing. Not to mention her head felt as though someone had taken a Beater bat to it multiple times.

"No more alcohol for me," she muttered.

"I'll say. It really wasn't pretty, Gin," George said, frowning down at her from his position beside the bed.

He was sitting on a chair that Ginny was fairly sure hadn't been there the night before. Not that she really remembered much from the night before. There was a vague recollection of speaking in rapid French after her third glass of Firewhisky. That had brought on a new resolve to drink even more, which had resulted in the scotch-paved path to darkness.

"Did I throw up last night?" she asked, frowning briefly.

"Twice, actually. The first time was on the kitchen floor, but the second time you actually reached the bathroom. A parade's being held later today to congratulate you on your success of mastering the third use of the ceramic bowl," George said, rolling his eyes.

"Did you know I can speak French?"

"I certainly do now. You managed to speak in French for the entire night, which made having a conversation with you slightly difficult. I could've sworn that languages weren't part of Cloffice until the third month," he mused, looking down at her.

"I have no idea **why** I can speak French, George. What's wrong with me?"

"You want to know what's wrong with you? Okay then. Firstly, you're still slightly drunk from the two bottles of Firewhisky _and_ scotch you consumed last night. Secondly, you're in desperate need of a shower, and thirdly, you're sleeping in my bed."

Ginny frowned slightly, but sat up properly and saw that the room she was in definitely wasn't hers. "How'd I get in here?"

"After the two bottles of alcohol, and two bouts of being sick, you decided to make camp in my room. That was about two this morning, and as I didn't want a repeat of your earlier performance, I let you be," he replied.

"Sorry, George. Just let me get up, and _whoa_ ," she groaned, holding her head as it spun from standing too quickly.

"Here, drink this before you're sick again," George said, handing her a goblet.

She drank without response, not trusting herself to speak aloud. Moments after she'd returned the goblet to George, her head stopped spinning and her stomach settled.

"Thanks. Sorry about taking over your room," Ginny said sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. It's not the first time I've had to sleep in an armchair," he said, grinning. "Come on, you've got to get ready. It's your last day for the month."

"Oh, that's right. I've got a whole day of sword training," she groaned. "Can I skip a day due to illness? I'm still feeling pretty awful from all of that alcohol."

"Nice try, Gin, but no wand. I'll make pancakes if you get ready now."

"Bribing me with pancakes? I like your style," Ginny said with a grin, leaving quickly.

"Pancakes always work," George said with a chuckle, leaving to go to the kitchen.

It wasn't until later when she had already arrived in Training Centre Two to start her day, that Ginny realised George hadn't answered her question.

...

Molly called out to George and Ginny as they Apparated into the lounge room. They called out in return, and George headed to the kitchen to see what their mother was cooking for dinner. Seeing Gabrielle sitting in an armchair, she smiled at her sister-in-law, moving to sit across from her.

"'Ello, Ginnee," she said, her words careful.

"Bonjour soeur," Ginny replied, grinning slightly. ( _Hello sister_.)

Gabrielle's eyes widened imperceptibly and she sat up a bit straighter. "Vous comprenez moi?" ( _You understand me_?)

"Oui," she said, laughing a little at Gabrielle's stunned expression.

"B-but how? You are learn'ng, are you?" she asked, her eyes flicking around to see who was listening. When she didn't see anyone else in the room, Gabrielle smiled. "Well, that is very interesting. I did not think that you would pick French up so quickly at the Cloffice," she said, her accent almost unnoticeable.

"You're part of Cloffice? I knew it!" she said, shaking her head.

Ginny had so many questions to ask, but she was acutely aware of their surroundings, and decided to leave them until a later time. Gabrielle seemed to think along the same lines, and gave her a brief nod.

"So how long have you known English? I seem to remember a lot of halted conversations only a few months ago," Ginny replied, grinning.

Gabrielle chuckled, shrugging slightly. "You 'ave all learned to accept it, so it iz not a probl'm," she said, her accent returned and noticeably thicker.

"Oh, that is _sneaky_ ," she said, laughing.

"Arthur! Ginny! Gabrielle! Dinner's ready," Molly called.

Moments later, Molly was surprised to see Ginny and Gabrielle walking into the dining area, their arms around each other and the two laughing as if they were the best of friends. While she was pleased to see them finally bonding, she was curious as to how it had come about. Molly turned her attention to serving up dinner when George and his brothers started banging their utensils on the table, calling for her pot roast.

"Now, now, boys, don't act like animals," she said, looking at each of them pointedly, although she couldn't quite hide her smile.

"Sorry, Mother. Best behaviour now, lads!" George called, sitting up straighter, and tucking his napkin into the front of his shirt.

With a laugh, Charlie followed suit, and Ron hurried to do the same. Bill just shook his head at them, his arm around Fleur's waist. Hermione saw what Ron was doing and rolled her eyes slightly, shaking her head at him.

"Well, now. Doesn't my family look all fancy?" Arthur said, grinning broadly as he made his way into the dining room.

" _Oui_ ," Ginny said, Gabrielle laughing beside her.

"Ginnee 'as off'red to 'elp me ... 'ow you say? Improve my English," Gabrielle said, accepting a plate of food from Molly. " _Merci_."

"And Gabrielle's going to help me speak French. I think it'd be good with for my job," she replied, smiling.

"How would speaking French help with your job at _The Quibbler_?" Ron asked, frowning at her.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll have to interview someone who only speaks and understands French," she said, shrugging.

"Oh, I know French. I can help, if you like. I'm fairly sure I know how to teach; I taught Ron and Harry at Hogwarts half of the time, and they both passed," Hermione said with a laugh.

"Hey, you did not teach me! You just ... helped me remember everything I didn't know," he said, his voice trailing off as his cheeks went red.

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him briefly, and returned her attention back to the two women sitting across from her, waiting expectantly.

Ginny didn't want to say yes, as she wanted to spend the time with Gabrielle talking about Cloffice. But if she said no, Hermione would definitely take offence to it, and then probably give her the cold shoulder.

"I am sorry, 'er-my-oh-nee, but Ginnee will need a lot of practice. More than me. 'er accent is 'orrible," Gabrielle said, shrugging.

"Oui, j'ai entendu mieux," Hermione said with a quick grin. ( _Yes, I've heard better_.)

Her accent was nothing like Ginny had ever heard before, and beside her, it seemed like Gabrielle needed a moment to understand the words as well. When Gabrielle finally understood, she smiled a thin smile, and gave her brother-in-law's girlfriend a brief nod.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Arthur clapped his hands loudly, startling most of them, and loudly congratulated Molly on an excellent dinner. His sentiments were echoed quickly, most grateful for an excuse to stop the silence. Slowly, noise returned to the room, and conversations were had between food.

Across from her, George looked at Ginny, wondering what she was doing. She was just looking down at her food, her fork moving in small circles around her plate. He immediately knew what she was doing - Legilimency on Hermione - and wondered how she would respond to the usually-smart-woman's superior thoughts. When Ginny looked up a moment later, a brief glare on her face, George knew that whatever she'd seen or heard hadn't been well received.

...

" _I've heard better_! Please, her accent sounded like she had a hairball stuck in her throat," Ginny muttered. "Actually, Crookshanks could probably speak French better than she could! Bloody holier-than-thou **prig!** And her thoughts! I've never heard such superiority! She really thinks she's better than all of us, just because of a few compliments she received in Hogwarts. It was _years_ ago! Smartest witch, my arse!"

George shook his head with a chuckle, hanging his outer robe up before following his sister into the lounge room. She was pacing the floor already, her innocent scarf being throttled in her grip.

"I _did_ try to tell you that she doesn't have the nicest thoughts."

"I know, I know," she said with a dismissive wave. "But it's completely different to see it for myself!"

George put his arm around her shoulder, grinning slightly. "Why don't you sit down, and I'll bring you a nice cup of tea to help you relax?"

Ginny muttered something unintelligible under her breath, but sighed a moment later and nodded. "Fine. Thank you," she said, kissing his cheek and going to sit down.

Heading into the kitchen, George lit the stove with his wand, filled the kettle, and while he was waiting for it to boil, he pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. Glancing over his shoulder to ensure that he was still alone, George pulled a small vial from his pocket and tipped half into each mug.

"Do you want honey in yours, sister dearest?"

"Yes, please, dearest brother," Ginny called back.

The kettle finished boiling, and George poured a small amount of hot water into both of the mugs. Getting out the honey, he dipped the spoon into the jar before stirring it into each. When that was completely dissolved, he added tea leaves to the mixture, stirring once more before pouring the rest of the water to the top. George did a slight cooling spell on both and then carried the mugs out to the lounge room carefully.

"Here you are," George murmured, handing his sister a mug. "Just the way you like it."

Ginny sipped at the tea, nodding in agreement. "Lovely. Thanks, George," she said with a smile.

"You're most welcome. Drink up; it's past your bed time, and you don't want to muck up your sleeping pattern for next week," he said. "How did that cream work for you?" George added, looking to her shoulder.

She flexed it experimentally and gave a slight wince at the ache. She'd returned the day before after her full day of sword training, her hand moulded into a fist around an imaginary hilt and her shoulder aching after favouring it for most of the day. George had given her a cream to ease the tenderness and aching, and while it hadn't magically removed the pain, it had certainly lessened it.

"It's better than what it was," she conceded eventually. "Might just sleep on my other shoulder instead tonight," Ginny added with a grin.

"Good idea," he said, raising his eyebrows slightly as he sipped at his own tea.

Ginny felt her eyes starting to close by the time she finished her tea, the mug held limply in her hand. George hurried to take it from her and set it on the coffee table.

"Come on, sister. To bed with you," he murmured, putting his arm around her shoulders and lifting her to her feet.

"You put something in my tea, didn't you?" she asked, her voice thick with fatigue.

"Just a Calming Draught. You'll sleep well tonight and thank me in the morning."

"Don't drug me. That's ... that's bad," Ginny said, stumbling over her words and feet.

"I know; you still love me," George muttered, helping her lie down on her bed. "Come on, feet up. There you go. I'll take your shoes off, but this is a one time deal, got it?"

"You drug me, you take my shoes off, that's the deal," she mumbled.

"You drive a hard bargain there, Gin," he said with a chuckle, slipping her shoes off and placing them beside the bed. "Here, sleep on your other side, or you'll hurt your shoulder. There you go," he murmured, helping her roll over.

When Ginny was lying on her side properly, George tucked her sheet and blanket in around her securely.

"Night," she whispered, her eyes closed.

"Good night," he whispered in return, leaving the room quietly.

Ginny was asleep before he reached the door. George finished his tea and headed to his bedroom, his wand tapping on the recording disc twice.

Drinking the antidote to the potion he'd poured into the mugs, George blinked a few times to help his body wake up again. Moments later, as the last of the potion worked through Ginny's system, the recording disc lit up and an image appeared before his eyes.

...

_Ginevra knew that she was being followed. She knew that the person following her knew that she knew they were following her too. They were closing in on her and it wouldn't be long before they had her surrounded and she'd be taken away. Smiling briefly at a group of people seated at a table inside the restaurant, she headed to the bathroom quickly._

_When she was certain that she was alone, Ginevra closed and locked the door behind her. She opened her handbag, pulling out a fountain pen and small bottle of ink. They were both Muggle items, probably old fashioned to some, but still Muggle enough that she wouldn't be given a second thought if someone was to search her bag._

_A pair of winter gloves and a small travelling towel were placed beside the pen and ink on the basin, and Ginevra placed the towel around her neck. She quickly unscrewed the pen so that it was open, doing the same with the ink bottle. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her reflection and started to pour the black ink onto her red hair carefully._

_Thick streaks of black began to form in her hair, and she knew that she didn't have much time. They were probably surrounding the restaurant at this very moment. She knew that they wouldn't move in until they had a visual confirmation of her, and Ginevra just hoped that this would work. It was the first time she'd done this, and for the sake of her hair, she sincerely hoped it would be the last time. Tipping generous amounts of the liquid onto her palm, she began to rub it into her hair. Black marks started to form on her forehead and neck, and Ginevra had to turn the tap on to wash it immediately before it left an obvious stain. The tap turned black, and she spent a few moments to clean that too._

_Within a matter of minutes, she was no longer a redhead. The fountain pen, empty ink bottle, and now-black towel were buried deep in the paper towel bin. Ginevra washed her hands the best she could with hot water and soap, then turned the hand dryer around so she could dry her wet hair. When she was satisfied that she no longer looked like herself, Ginevra pulled a second small bag out of her bag and unrolled it. After putting her old bag away in the newer one, she put the pair of gloves on and left the bathroom._

_The restaurant was not overly large, but it was big enough to have a separate bar. After looking at the men and women who were sitting alone, some wearing wedding rings and others sober enough to question the dampness of her hair when it wasn't raining outside, Ginevra made her decision and walked over to one woman sitting at the bar._

_"Hi, can I buy you a drink?" she asked._

_"Already got one," she muttered, barely glancing at her._

_"Just offering a free drink, that's all," Ginevra said with a quick smile._

_The woman laughed sourly. "Nothing's free in life; remember that."_

_"I will, promise," she replied quickly. "Are you sure I can't buy you a drink? I'm paying for it, so it's not free, technically," she added, grinning._

_The woman looked at Ginevra a bit better then shrugged. "Vodka and lime."_

_Ginevra hurried to order the drink, smiling slightly._

_Twenty minutes - and six vodka and limes - later, Ginevra was stumbling out of the restaurant with the woman, their arms around each other as they walked in the cold winter air._

_"So, Jenny, what brings you to Gascony?" her companion asked, a slur in her voice. "Business? Or pleasure?" she asked, her cool fingers running down Ginevra's clothed arm._

_"Business," Ginevra replied with a grin. "And pleasure."_

_"What sort of business are you in then, Jenny?"_

_"Nothing that's worth mentioning. Lots of numbers and paperwork," she replied offhandedly. "What sort of business are you in?"_

_"The secret kind," she said, her fingers pressed to her lips._

_"Really?" Ginevra asked curiously. "What sort of secret?"_

_"Government secret," she said, her fingers still covering her mouth and making her words mumbled._

_"So you'll know all about Project Serpent then?"_

_Her fingers fell from her mouth and the blood rushed from her head, leaving her pale and feeling woozy. "How do you know about that?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Are you one of them? You are, aren't you?"_

_"I'm just here to find out what you know. We can do this here on the street or inside your home, Kelly, it's your choice," Ginevra said, her voice colder than the air around them._

_She gave a brief nod and turned to find that they'd already reached her house. Gulping silently, she hurried to open the door and usher Ginevra inside, her eyes glancing to the street before closing the door firmly behind them_.

...

The recording disc stopped playing and George sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. It seemed that Ginevra was definitely starting to remember. Essentially, it was a good thing, but if she wasn't monitored closely then it could become a bad thing, and even end up with his dearest sister going insane.

When they'd heard what was going on, Draco and Blaise had demanded to be put through Cloffice training again so that they could keep an eye on Ginevra. Pansy had refused at first, but they'd eventually convinced her that they would be the best ones to look out for any signs of her memory returning, especially considering their relationship. Pansy had agreed reluctantly, and set them in the week above Ginevra so as not to startle her and bring her memories back in full force.

Ginevra must have rolled over because the recording disc began to play once more, and another dream surfaced. George looked over at the holographic recording and was surprised to see his own face.

...

_"The Holey Forge is a legend around here. You don't have to be nervous about living up to that sort of expectation; no one here will compare you with me," George said, grinning. "Remember, you are my favourite person in the whole world, so that makes you special, no matter how bad you fuck up," he added with a chuckle._

_"Thanks, George, really. That was just the sort of pep talk I needed," Ginevra said with a groan, looking queasy._

_"Hey, I wasn't joking about that," he said seriously, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Kill 'em," George said, winking at her as he pushed her the last metre to the training room._

_Ginevra tried to settle her nerves and stepped through the doorway, getting one last glance over her shoulder to see George's encouraging face before the door slid shut and she was enveloped in darkness. She felt a familiar weight of a gun settle in her hand, and with a deep breath, she let go of everything she felt and focused on her mission._

_The room lit up brightly a moment later, cut outs of people materialising instantly before her. Her jaw set and expression determined, Ginevra fired shot after shot at the cut outs, giving each 'person' a second's glance to ensure they were hostile. The man with the gun was shot in the shoulder; woman with the baby was left alone; woman with the baby and gun was shot in the leg; man and woman holding a boy hostage were shot in the arms and chests; the woman holding the gun to her own head wasn't shot at, since it was likely to set her own gun off. It continued that way for the better part of an hour, and Ginevra had replaced her magazine clip so many times that she lost count. Empty bullet shells were strewn around her feet, a wide arc of gold to give her enough room to turn without slipping and falling._

_The door opened once more and Ginevra stepped outside, immediately being hugged tightly in congratulations by George._

_"You almost outdid my own record, dearest sister," he said with a grin._

_"Almost?" she asked, wondering what she should have done differently._

_"The old woman with the pram? The pram actually had a bomb inside of it," George replied, shrugging briefly._

_"Oh, damn it. I knew there was something off about her," Ginevra growled._

_"Yeah, because_ ** _every_** _old woman in a cardigan is suspicious," he said, shaking his head with a laugh_.

Ginevra went to reply, but a beeping noise started to sound in her dream.

...

Ginny woke up on hearing her alarm, blinking her eyes hazily. Her dreams faded almost immediately, and there was a vague memory of vodka and a gun, but nothing too substantial to make her think much of it.

"Awake yet, Ginevra?" George called, rapping on her door cheerfully.

"Yes. Stop all that cheerful knocking; I swear, it's like you're hitting yourself with five Cheering Charms the moment you wake up," Ginny muttered.

"Well, maybe I am. You'll never know," he said with a chuckle. "Come on, you have a shower and I'll get your breakfast ready," George offered.

Sighing, and feeling slightly bad about her irritable tone, Ginny called out a quick thanks and then headed to the shower to get ready for her day.

She was clean, dry, dressed, and out in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. George was waiting with a bowl of porridge, and Ginny started eating when he sat down across from her. She studied his face as she ate, seeing the bags under his eyes.

"Are you sleeping all right, George?" she asked with a slight frown.

"I've slept better," he said, shrugging. "Just a few later nights than I'm used to. Me and my old age," George said with a laugh.

Ginny wasn't entirely appeased, but nodded in return. "Why don't you go out with Pansy this week? You might even feel young again," she said, grinning.

"Good idea, dearest sister. Although I suspect an ulterior motive?"

"No, not really. Well, Draco and Blaise have invited me on separate dates, but that's not why I suggested it. Really, it's not," Ginny added at her brother's look of disbelief.

"Uh huh. I believe you," George said, raising his eyebrows in exaggeration. "Don't go out with them this Wednesday, I need to drop off some spy buttons and talk business with them," he added. "I'll let you know if Pansy accepts, so then you'll be able to go out on your date. Two dates in one week; you're getting popular, Gin."

"Funny," she drawled sarcastically.

"I thought so too. Come on, finish up, or you'll be late," George prompted.

Swallowing the last mouthful quickly, Ginny went to the kitchen to rinse her bowl out. George insisted on washing it for her, telling her to get going already, so she did as he said and headed over to the Floo.

When Ginny had disappeared in the green flames, George did a spell to clean the bowl and spoon properly and then headed back to bed. As he walked to his bedroom, his Glamours faded one by one to reveal a much more haggard and worn version of himself than Ginny had seen. It was a testament to how tired he was that she'd noticed the bags under his eyes. He needed to sleep for a good solid seven hours at least. Curling up in bed, it didn't take long for George to fall asleep.

...

Opening the fireplace from the Cloffice's reception, Pansy thanked Lin for transferring the call through to her, and then opened the appropriate grate.

"Good morning, Pansy. I hope I'm not disturbing anything?" Gabrielle asked pleasantly.

"Just parchment work. I do have a meeting with the Minister in an hour; will this take long?" Pansy asked.

"Hopefully not that long; I have plans as well," she replied with a laugh. Then her expression changed and Gabrielle sighed softly, looking down to the button in her palm. "They are getting stronger. George was correct in thinking that the place Avery went to was a new establishment because of all the boxes. I've been past since and the building is no longer there. I can sense it as a witch, but no matter what I've tried, it will not show."

"You were discreet, I hope?"

"Of course I was!" she replied, her French accent thick with her indignation.

Pansy just raised her eyebrow slightly, but looked away a moment later, knowing that Gabrielle had been trained by one of the best, and she knew how to blend in. "My apologies; I am sure you were. I am worried with this development, as you can very well understand," she murmured, receiving a nod in reply. "You have the translation for me?" Pansy prompted.

" _Oui_ , I used a separate button to translate, and also used a Quick Notes Quill to transcribe it on parchment," Gabrielle replied, putting her hand into her fireplace and waiting patiently.

Pansy unlocked the fireplace with two spells and a drop of blood - an extreme precaution, perhaps, but one that had saved her life numerous times before - and took the offered parchment and buttons. They were surprisingly light considering the type of information they held.

"Thank you, Gabrielle. Do you have anything further to report?"

Gabrielle was silent for a moment, and then smiled. "Ginevra and I are starting to bond again. I have missed her friendship more than I thought I would."

Pansy chuckled softly and nodded. "I know the feeling all too well."

"I was surprised that you hadn't told her about your friendship," Gabrielle commented with a slight frown.

"It didn't seem like it was necessary information. Besides, she was very suspicious of me at the start..."

"She was the first time around too," she pointed out.

"Yes, I remember," Pansy said coolly.

Gabrielle seemed to realise that she had stepped over a certain line, and gave a quick apologetic smile. "Well, I should return to work. Take care, Pansy," she said.

"Thank you; you too, Gabrielle," Pansy replied with a brief nod.

The fireplace grate closed and the flames turned to their normal colour once more. Pansy sighed and went back to her desk. She had to report to the Minister, and if it didn't go well, he could pull his support away from the Cloffice without a thought. The bastard had been looking for a reason to withdraw his support ever since learning of it after becoming Minister the year before. He believed the entire establishment to be too arbitrary, despite the fact that they'd been established since the very first Minister and had saved the lives of many more people than his tiny brain could comprehend.

Forcing herself to relax, Pansy placed the translated button in her ear gently, and tapped her wand to it. Unrolling the parchment scroll, she began to read along to Gabrielle's translation.

"Start of translation.

"Avery: Why did you call to meet me? And why here? I think I was followed.

"Unknown woman: You always think you were followed. Calm down, you idiot. I called to meet you here because this is where the new headquarters are going to be. As to why I called you here, the next shipment of Time Turners are being deployed next month and you're needed. Your role has not changed: you will be there to guard the delivery, as normal, and nothing more. You will receive your payment once the delivery has been completed.

"Avery: Where and when?

"Woman: You will receive the details just as you always do. This was just a way for me to meet you face-to-face.

"Avery: I'm that dispensable, am I? I can tell you're high up in the project, and you wouldn't show your face to me unless you were certain I could never identify you later.

"Woman: You're not dispensable so much as easily fooled. You honestly think that this is really my face? That I'm not wearing more than ten Glamours to distort every feature beyond recognition? You really are a fool. If you were as paranoid as you claim to be, you'd do the same.

"Avery: _Laughs_. I might not use all of those pretty little Glamours, but I know how to disguise myself, don't you worry about that.

"Woman: I'm sure you do. Now, let me show you around the building to get you familiarised with the layout. You'll need to know exactly where to put the new order of Time Turners.

"Avery: Fine. Ladies first.

"End of translation."

Sitting back in her chair, Pansy took the button away from her ear, repressing a sigh. The Revolution were getting stronger, and while Ginevra's memories were returning, it didn't feel like they were coming back fast enough. She needed to be in the field sooner rather than later.

The fireplace lit up, pulling Pansy from her sombre thoughts.

"Yes, Lin?" she asked, sitting straighter.

"The Minister is requesting to come through."

"Floo, Portkey, or Apparating?" Pansy asked, her wand slipping into her hand to alter the appropriate wards in her office.

"Floo. He's already left, and his secretary said he's already angry and looking to take it out on someone," Lin warned her.

Pansy came close to wincing at the prospect of the hour ahead of her, but thanked Lin instead, and hurried to open the fireplace to greet the Minister.

...

"All right, as you may remember from your last test in the maze, you were up against people who disappeared the moment they were injured. Now, it's your turn. You're one of three groups in the maze, and your weapons are given to you rather than you choosing them this time. You have to injure whoever you come up against... Now, let's see what you've learned, shall we?" Scarface asked with a sadistic grin that was echoed by the scar on his face.

Ginny tried not to stare at the man. He'd barely talked while they were under his tutelage, but now that there was an opportunity to see them get hacked up with a sword or shot with a myriad of bullets, he was suddenly a wordsmith?

She didn't have time to think anything further, because she was suddenly in the maze and she felt the now-familiar weight of a sword at her waist before she saw the hilt beside her. Ginny did a quick once over of her body to see if she had any hidden daggers or thin needle-like swords in her sleeves. A minute later, she concluded that her only weapon was the sword. Drawing it out of the sheath, she let it rest against her shoulder as she started to navigate the maze. It would be useless to come across an opponent and then spend precious seconds struggling to get her sword out of it's sheath.

Rounding a corner, Ginny came face to face with two people. She was expecting cut outs like she'd seen the first time around, and almost cried out in surprise. Then she realised that she recognised the two people and her eyes widened briefly.

"Draco? Blaise?" she asked.

 _Of all the people she had to fight against, why did they have to be first_?!

Draco and Blaise both turned to face her, and Ginny realised that she'd just lost the element of surprise.

"Oh, this **has** to be Pansy's doing," Draco muttered to Blaise.

"I told you she wasn't happy about that comment you made last week," he muttered in reply.

"How about we just get this over and done with? No hard feelings?" Ginny asked, even as she swung her sword.

Draco's body responded before his mind, and he raised two daggers to stop the sword from completing it's arc.

" _No hard feelings_? You just swung a sword at us without warning," he growled.

"If I hadn't recognised you, then I would have done the same thing two minutes ago."

She pushed Draco back with a small grunt, her sword moving to block the arrow that Blaise was pointing at her.

"A crossbow? Seriously?" Ginny muttered with a slight frown.

He shrugged. "I didn't pick it. I'm just glad I'm not in that hostage scenario cutout. That girl was a whiny little brat," Blaise said with a bit of a smirk.

Ginny shook her head, silently telling herself to concentrate and she raised her sword a bit higher. Depending on Blaise's capability with the crossbow, he should be the easier of the two to hit first. The two men seemed to realise that she was actually going to attack them and raised their own weapons. Ginny wondered if she was being punished with a sword for choosing a gun in the first maze. Draco started to retaliate to her movements, and Ginny stopped thinking, concentrating instead on her opponents, keeping an eye out for an opening or weakness so she could attack. They both fought with the precision of people who were used to fighting with weapons. Blaise was aiming for her arms rather than a body part that might cause serious injury. Ginny swung her sword at him, surprised that he could dodge her so quickly.

"So, did you think of our offer?" Blaise asked in a _bloody conversational tone_ as she fought against Draco's daggers.

"Yes," she managed with a slight grunt as Draco pushed her back, the hilts of his daggers strong against her sword.

"And?"

"This week. Not Wednesday though," she added, her eyes never leaving Draco's form.

He was extremely skilled with those damned daggers, and she wondered what would happen if they continued to fight without anyone getting injured. _Would they be forced to stay in this maze until one of them had been hurt_? Ginny flexed her right hand briefly and began her attack once more.

"George has a meeting with us this Wednesday, doesn't he? How about Thursday and Friday then?" Blaise asked, the crossbow hanging by his side.

 _He wasn't even attempting to fight! That bastard_!

"Fine by me," she said, attempting to dislodge her sword from Draco's daggers.

"Who do you want first?" Draco asked, pulling one dagger free and moving to stab her.

Before his dagger could cut her, Draco gasped in surprise, and began to disappear.

"Blaise, you bastard!" he called as he disappeared entirely, an arrow embedded in his shoulder.

"Was that your way of saying you want to go out with me first?" Ginny asked, trying not to grin.

"Most definitely yes."

"I was going to pick you first, anyway, you know," she replied, smirking now.

"Good. Now, come with me. I'm sure there's a sorry bunch of recruits from Training Centre One who haven't been really hurt yet," Blaise said with a smirk of his own.

She gave a laugh and followed him down the maze.

High up above them, hidden by numerous spells and Glamours, Pansy was standing beside the Minister of Magic, both watching as the recruits fought their way through the maze.

 

...

End of the twenty-first chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	22. Chapter 22

Cursing softly when her arm was hit by the flat edge of a sword, Ginny glared over at Claudia before swinging her own sword back at her. Her wand arm was in a sling, as her limb was still tender after being shot yesterday. She'd taken a bullet that had been intended for Blaise, and even as she disappeared from the maze, Ginny had seen Blaise moving forward with his crossbow to shoot the three cutouts that had fired on her.

On arriving in the hospital ward, the Healers had declared that her arm was injured beyond repair, the bullet embedded far too deeply in her bone. The Healers had removed the bone entirely and after taking the bullet out of her arm, they then forced her to drink Skele-Grow. It had been an exhausting and pain-filled night, not even three potions had been enough to numb the excruciating sensation of a bone regrowing in her lifeless limb.

 _It was especially nice of Draco and Blaise to show up in the hospital ward to check on her_ , Ginny thought to herself.

 _The snogging session wasn't too bad either_ , her subconscious added with a snicker.

She ignored the voice, even if she did agree with it, and continued to try and fight Claudia off with a left-handed wielded sword.

...

"Today, you will be the guinea pigs for last week's massage group. Don't look so alarmed; if they're that awful, you'll be able to exact your revenge on them next week after _you've_ learnt everything," their instructor said with a smirk. "Now, everyone take a slip of parchment to see what sort of massage you'll be getting and who will be your masseur," she added, waving them forward to the hat on the table beside them.

Claudia grabbed hers first, batting her eyelashes at Draco. Her sultry expression fell when she saw that she was to receive a hot rock massage from the leery wizard of the group, rather than Draco or Blaise. Somewhat relieved, Morrigan moved to take hers next, smiling when she saw that Draco would be massaging her. Jordan's masseur was Gladstone, the fourth man in Draco and Blaise's group, and Ginny allowed a small smile when she realised that she would be getting massaged by Blaise. Pulling out her parchment, her eyes widened slightly when she saw the type of massage she'd be receiving.

"Masseurs, please prepare your space. Those being massaged, please go behind the screen to change and retrieve your towel."

Her shock was still sending a cold wave over her body, but somehow, Ginny made her way behind her individual screen and shucked down to her underwear.

 _Full body massage. That meant he was going to be taking the towel off. Oh, dear Merlin this had the potential to be_ ** _extremely_** _embarrassing_.

 _Hey, you're getting a free massage. You're going to be as malleable as soft clay by the time this is finished. Just listen to the music and relax. Pretend you're back at Zabini Manor if that helps_.

 _What music_?

The towel wrapped around her securely, Ginny stepped out from behind the screen. Blaise met her with a smile, his sleeves rolled up. He led her into a curtained area, his voice gentle as he instructed her to lie down and relax. Soft music was playing and Ginny questioned her subconscious, suspicious.

 _It's a massage; there's_ ** _always_** _music, everyone knows that_.

Supposing that she'd had to known that at some point in time if her subconscious had told her, Ginny moved to lie down on the bed, placing her head in the hole, just as she'd done at Blaise's home. Blaise used his wand to create a small compartment under the table-bed for her to rest her injured arm in without straining. Grateful that she wouldn't have to try to hold it up on her own, Ginny thanked him quietly.

Blaise's voice was soft and soothing as he explained that he would be giving her a full body massage, and would be moving her towel accordingly. She agreed with a brief noise, and tried to relax when she felt Blaise's hands resting on her shoulders.

 _Concentrate on the music. Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate. There you go, just relax and listen to the music_ , her subconscious guided her, soothing her slowly.

Ginny took a deep breath and closed her eyes, listening to the flowing music as Blaise worked on her. His oiled hands slid up and down her bare back, rubbing and easing the knots of tension that had formed. He massaged her shoulders, his hands sliding down her arms to continue the flowing motion. More warm oil was rubbed onto his hands, and he worked on her neck, moving up to her head in a sharp motion that had her moaning in response. After reassuring Blaise that she was fine, and it was a good sort of pain, he continued once more.

When she was feeling content to the point of sleep, Blaise moved to massage her legs and feet. Long sweeping motions, slick and soothing with the warm oil, and Ginny bit back a moan of a very different kind. Forcing herself to listen to the music once more, Ginny began to drift off to a content and comfortable sleep.

...

" _Where were you born?" Ginevra asked in a conversational tone, hoping to calm the frightened woman._

 _"Near Prague, in the wizarding Czech Republic," Kelly replied, her voice becoming firmer as she thought of her family. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the woman across from her. "_ La Révolution _are a very powerful organisation. I hope you know who you are dealing with, Jenny." (_ The Revolution _. French.)_

 _"_ Ano _, I know exactly who I am dealing with,_ děkuji _, Kelly. Now, tell me everything you know about_ La Révolution _," Ginevra said, her wand pointed at the other woman. (_ Yes. Thank you. _Czech.)_

_She held it loosely in her grip, but made it more than obvious that she could and would hex Kelly if she did anything wrong._

_"They are an organisation who believe in the Dark Lord Voldemort's vision for the future of the wizarding world. They believe themselves to be his messengers, his army, and they will stop at nothing to bring his vision to light. They believe in his cause, in his teachings of blood purity, and believe that they are superior to all others, not just Muggles and Mudbloods. They will not stand for any blood traitors, and if someone does not agree with their way, then they will not think of that person. That person will mean so little to them, that they will be thought of as nothing; a piece of dirt, scum. They will not hesitate in killing that person, and everyone that person has ever known or loved, simply because they know that they do not agree with them._ La Révolution _are ruthless."_

 _"_ Ano, ano _. What else? What do you know about Project Serpent?"_

_Kelly didn't seem quite as open to telling her about that, and Ginevra sent a warning hex directly over her shoulder. Kelly jumped in fear, her eyes wide._

_"_ Víc _, Kelly," Ginevra hissed. (_ More _. Czech.)_

 _"P-project Serpent, or_ Serpent de projet _..._ La Révolution _are going to bring the Dark Lord Voldemort back in to the world," she whispered._

 _"_ Jak _?" Ginevra asked, her face paling. (_ How _? Czech.)_

 _"That I do not know._ Prosím _, I have told you all I know," Kelly begged when Ginevra pointed her wand directly at her face. "_ Prosím _, do not hurt me," she begged, tears starting to form. (_ Please _. Czech.)_

 _"_ Nehýbejte se _," Ginevra said, her voice quiet as her eyes narrowed. (_ Don't move _. Czech.)_

_Kelly went still on the sofa, her entire body trembling._

_Ginevra listened intently, certain that she'd heard a noise from the apartment that hadn't come from Kelly or herself. A moment of concentration had her eyes changing to that of a cat, allowing her to see into the dark room behind Kelly. A thinning of her lips was all the warning she gave, and a second later, a hex had flown from her wand, a loud thud sounding behind Kelly. The woman let out a scream of fear, and was immediately silenced by Ginevra._

_After checking the rest of the apartment, Ginevra was satisfied that they were alone. Turning over the person she'd hexed, she took the woman's mask off._

_"Marjorie?" Kelly whispered, her face pale._

_"You know her?" Ginevra asked, picking up the dagger that had fallen when she'd hexed her._

_A brief sniff had her concluding that the dagger had been coated in a poison, probably hemlock by the unpleasant smell of it._

_"_ Ano, _we work together; she's my friend. Sh-she came to my mother's funeral," Kelly said, feeling sick._

_"Well, she just tried to kill you. Come with me, you need to leave right away."_

_"Jenny?"_

No, that wasn't right _._

 _"Ginny? Ginevra, you need to wake up now," a lovely voice came to her_.

...

Ginny woke up, blinking her eyes rapidly, even as her mind tried to chase the dream she'd had.

"All right, Ginevra?" Blaise asked, sounding a mix of concerned and amused.

"Fine... Fine," she repeated, trying to convince herself more than him.

"Okay," Blaise said, obviously not believing her. "I've finished your massage, and cleaned the oil from you. I'll get you some water now, or would you prefer tea?" he offered.

"Tea, thank you," she said, biting back the _d_ _ě_ _kuji_ she almost replied with automatically.

He gave a brief nod, not looking as though he wanted to leave her while she looked so confused, and left behind the curtain quickly. Sitting up slowly, Ginny let the towel drop to put her underwear on, and hurried to get into her gym clothes before pulling her regular clothes on top. Her thoughts strayed back to her dream, remembering snippets of a woman, a dagger, and something that was important. Dangerous, but important, and she couldn't remember it properly. _Something about a snake? No, that wasn't right_.

"Are you decent, Ginevra?" Blaise asked, jolting her out of her thoughts abruptly.

"Yes!" she hurried to reply, the syllable coming out louder than she anticipated.

The curtain opened, and Blaise stepped inside, handing her the small cup and saucer carefully. Ginny took it with a grateful smile, drinking the warm tea slowly. She noticed a slip of parchment on the saucer, a small folded square that her cup covered easily.

"When you're finished and ready to go, just come out, and then you can give me a review," Blaise said with a smile, leaving again.

Resting the saucer beside her on the padded table, Ginny quickly unfolded the piece of parchment. She almost spit out her tea on reading the note.

 _If you think that was good, wait until we give you a full body massage in private_.

Fanning herself with the saucer, Ginny had to wait a good two minutes until she was composed enough to leave the partitioned room without a bright red face.

...

George stepped into the foyer of Malfoy Manor, a small box tucked under his arm. He was greeted by the head house elf, who informed him that Messrs. Malfoy and Zabini were waiting for him and then led him to the sitting room.

Draco and Blaise pulled apart when the door opened, neither one looking ashamed of the fact that they'd been in a very compromising and heated snogging session. George just rolled his eyes at them.

"Can't keep yourselves off of each other for very long, can you?"

"Well, when we look as fine as we do, of course bloody not," Draco said with a smirk, settling back on the lounge.

"Every damned month, you two go through this. How about we actually talk about Ginevra, and you just give us the damned buttons?" Blaise muttered.

"Should I come back when the stick's been removed from his arse?" George asked, his eyebrow raised as he looked at Draco.

"No, because then it'll be replaced with something else," Draco said, smirking wider now.

"Don't worry, Blaise, I'm sure the stick's bigger than anything Blondie's got," George said, patting his arm sympathetically.

Draco's eye twitched, the corner of Blaise's mouth tugged up almost involuntarily, and in a matter of moments, the former was glowering as the latter burst out laughing.

"Okay, you win, George," Blaise said, laughter pouring from him heartily.

"No, that wasn't a win! That was below the belt," Draco muttered.

"That's generally where one finds one's cock, Blondie," George drawled, smirking at him. "Or hasn't your mummy told you about that yet?"

"Now, that's against the rules. We're not allowed to bring parents into the game!" Draco said, looking to Blaise as a referee.

Blaise was still laughing, and just shook his head.

"Oh, we weren't playing the game then. I'd already won; I was just insulting you," George said with a snicker. "Come on, Blondie; lighten up. Get a Firewhisky and my Galleon payment, and then I'll tell you about Ginevra," he said, waving him away with all of the ease of a dismissive Lord.

Realising that he wasn't going to get a rematch, and he'd just lost yet another Galleon to the Weasley, Draco muttered under his breath and went to get the alcohol, as requested.

Blaise's laughter eventually subsided, and he leant back on the lounge, wiping his tears, a few chuckles escaping when he thought of Draco's expression again.

"Remember when you two first started playing?" he asked, grinning.

"Of course I do. It's a treasured memory," George said, laughing.

It had been only weeks after Ginevra had left the Cloffice, and George had needed someone to blame for her resignation. After over a year of working for the Cloffice, she had gone from Ginevra, 'super-agent who could kick his arse while wearing a pair of stiletto heels, corset, and leather pants', and relapsed to 'living at home while working a menial job for less than meagre pay' Ginny.

George had gone to Malfoy Manor and demanded to see Draco and Blaise, blaming them for her leaving. He had started insulting them with everything he had, and then had continued into the extreme, his frame of mind not exactly set up for seething insults as full of grief and confusion as it was. By the end of his tirade, when George stopped for a breath and finally noticed just how upset the two heirs were, Draco had started to laugh. He'd laughed for so long and so hard that Blaise and George couldn't help but join in, and they'd all but clung to each other as they laughed out their anger and confusion at Ginevra's sudden departure.

From that day on, the three men met up every month to talk over Ginevra, Ginny, and just how much they missed the spitfire that she'd been. The timid and workaholic that Ginny was now showed parts of Ginevra at times, and George related the similarities to them. Draco and Blaise had even taken jobs in the Ministry just to see her. George had needed to set up a distance barrier between them so they wouldn't suddenly start talking to Ginny. She wouldn't understand why they would be talking to her when she was still under the impression that they hated her, her family, her lack of wealth.

Besides, she was dating Harry again. His cheating ways had been hushed up by the family when it happened the first time, only three others besides them knowing what had transpired. So, when Ginny returned, the Cloffice had altered the memories of all concerned parties to make them think that nothing had happened to make Ginny and Harry break up in the first place.

The morning after seeing Ginny going about town with Harry, Draco had physically de-gnomed the garden by himself, refusing to talk to anyone until the task had been completed. The house elves had been beside themselves, thinking that their efforts to remove the gnomes had failed in their Master's eyes. Blaise hadn't been much better, but his way of coping involved destruction of property. The Shrieking Shack had even more rumours surrounding it after his day spent there.

Draco returned with the Firewhisky, still looking put out. George's Galleon was sitting at the bottom of his tumbler.

"Oh, cheer up, Blondie. You'll think of better insults soon," George said, holding up his tumbler in a mock salute.

Blaise smirked and raised his in return, both of them drinking. Draco just scowled before taking a large drink.

"So, how did the buttons go? Did you manage to complete the amount we wanted?" Blaise asked, sitting up straighter as he discussed business.

"Yes, I finished them. I was going to extend the amount of time they'd be stuck to a person, but it's too difficult to get someone to wear the same clothes for two days in a row. Besides, if it's not well-placed, a person is likely to notice an extra button on their clothing in that time."

Blaise agreed with a nod, leaning forward to open the box George had placed on the coffee table.

"How is Ginevra? Still remembering bits and pieces?" Draco asked as Blaise inspected the button with his wand.

"It's coming back in bigger blocks of memory now. She's started to dream about you two again. Actual missions you went on together, not just you three snogging, which is a definite relief for me. Pansy was getting sick of scanning through the recordings before I could check them over," George said, grinning.

"I'm sure she didn't appreciate that either," Draco muttered.

"No, but it's part of her job, so she did it anyway."

"We could scan the dream recordings, you know," Blaise said, barely looking up from the button.

"Firstly, I wouldn't put it past you two to make some sort of porn expedition out of her dreams, so I'm not giving you access to them, and secondly, that request has been denied every single time you've asked for it. You've already screwed her up with that 'love' comment, so imagine what would happen if you accidentally slipped something in from a dream she'd had?" George added pointedly. "She'd never trust you again, and you can sure as hell bet that she'd relapse completely. Some part of her is still fighting this whole transition to bring Ginevra back," he said, sighing heavily.

"We know that, George. But Pansy wouldn't be trying to bring her back if it wasn't completely necessary. She's been wanting to do this for close to four months, and it was some sort of miracle that Pansy didn't pull her in sooner than this," Draco said.

"All right, they look genuine. We'll take the whole lot," Blaise said, setting the button down.

Draco called for a house elf, George writing down a figure on a scrap of parchment and handing it over to them. Draco told the elf to transfer the money to George's account straight away, and the creature disappeared with a pop.

They were silent for a moment, waiting for the house elf to return with a receipt for George. When it did, he stood up and gave them both a grin.

"Nice doing business with you, lads. Keep out of trouble, yeah? Ginevra would have my hide if you two get hurt doing anything stupid," George said, finishing off the last of his Firewhisky.

He pulled the Galleon out of his mouth with a grin and tucked it into his pocket cheerfully.

"Same goes for you, George," Blaise said with a nod.

"Oh, on another note; we've both got dates with Ginevra tomorrow and Friday. You might want Pansy to scan Ginevra's dream recordings before you watch them," Draco said, smirking.

"Thanks for the warning. If you touch her in any inappropriate way, I'll cut your hands off and send them to your enemies so they can hunt you down," George said cheerfully, Disapparating with a pop.

"I'd laugh if I thought he was joking," Blaise muttered to Draco, who just replied with a sombre nod.

...

_Initially, the mission had been easy: sneak into the office of the French Minister of Magic, find any evidence of his supporting a war against Britain (either legally or through a different means altogether), and get out. Only, it had become a lot more difficult when their spells to stop the spell remover at the door failed. It was a simple white bar on either side of the door, and the spell it released was almost an exact copy of the one used in Gringotts to remove enchantments and spells from those who went beneath the waterfall. Only, as this was a high-end society function, no water would be sprayed on the citizens. A slight tingling sensation would be felt when they passed between the white bars, and all spells from simple Glamours to a Confundus Charm would be removed._

_Of course, as Ginevra was masquerading as a brunette for this particular mission, and her weapons were hidden on her body with Concealment Charms, it would be impossible for her to pass through the door without triggering an alarm and having the French Aurors escort her from the building. Well, that was the best-case scenario. The worst involved her in an interrogation cell, a fate which she had avoided thus far, and would have preferred to keep it that way. It would have been much easier to avoid had the spell worked on the damned door. Then the bars would be disabled, and she would have made it inside without hassle. She was going to have a serious discussion with the technical team when she returned to Cloffice._

_Ginevra was two people away from entering the building, and couldn't leave the line without looking suspicious. However, Draco and Blaise were further back and could leave without rousing as much attention._

_"You two go. I'll work something out. Do not blow cover," she said quietly into her bracelet, lifting her hand to run through her hair._

_The bracelet was transmitting to a small earring on Draco and Blaise's ears. They had been assured that since the spell would work on the door, they'd needn't worry about losing communication with each other._

_The line moved forward, and she was up next. She took a deep breath, thinking of the tens of spells she could release to cause enough confusion to get inside._

_"Good luck," Blaise's reply came through her own stud earring._

_People were suddenly moved aside, two large and bulky men escorting the French Minister past the waiting line of people._

_Ginevra held back her grin when she saw that he had arrived without his wife. This was about to get so much easier._

_"Minister!" she called sweetly, her hand touching his arm as he passed. A thought lust spell transferred onto him, and he stopped short, blinking owlishly._

_"Oui, mon cher?" he replied, his gaze already falling to her chest._ (Yes, my dear? _French_.)

_"May I escort you inside, Minister?" Ginevra asked, her voice a sultry purr._

_"Of course, mon cher. Come," he said, holding out his arm for her._

_She took it with an elegant hand and a hidden smile. She leaned in close to his ear. "Can the spell remover be turned off? I do not fancy all of these people seeing me unclothed, Minister," Ginevra murmured._

_He choked slightly, his hand tightening around her arm._

_"You are naked beneath that robe, mon cher?" he questioned softly, licking his lips eagerly._

_She smiled, giving a brief nod and teasing wink._

_"Turn it off," the Minister growled. "Quickly, quickly," he said when his will wasn't adhered to immediately._

_The two brutes he'd hired for security didn't seem pleased that she was about to pass through the door without being scanned, but the Minister had given his orders. They both nodded to the security wizard at the door, and the spell was removed temporarily._

_With a broad smile and lingering gaze on her body, the Minister walked through the door with Ginevra on his arm. There was a very good reason that no media persons were allowed to attend this particular function._

_Moments after the Minister's entrance, the orchestra began to play, and he and Ginevra were the first to start dancing. As she was twirled around gracefully, Ginevra could see that Blaise and Draco were circulating in the crowd, masquerading as waiters. The Minister spun her back to him, and she gave him a flirty smile._

_"Is there anywhere we can go? Somewhere more private, Minister?" Ginevra added, her hand trailing down his cheek gently._

_A second lust spell wasn't necessary; the feel of his hardening cock against her thigh made it more than obvious that he would agree to anything she said at that moment._

_"Oui, oui," he said breathlessly._

_The man had the frame of mind to do a quick Glamour so his tented pants and robes wouldn't be noticed - just because no media were invited, it didn't mean people still couldn't talk - and led her away, talking of the latest campaign strategies to get him reelected. Of course, people talked, but their memories would all show the same thing: he was escorting an eager young woman who was interested in the marketing campaign his team had prepared for the upcoming election. The media could only speculate that he was going somewhere to fuck her, but without any evidence, it would only ever be speculation and his campaign would be safe from any acts of infidelity. No one cared about assumptions in the total scheme of things._

_Ginevra acted as if she was completely rapt with the information he was spouting. She noticed the identical looks of horror, disgust, and betrayal on Draco and Blaise's faces, but ignored them and any attempts they made to contact her via their cufflinks and her stud earring._

_The moment they were out of sight, the Minister stopped talking about the campaign. He turned to her, his lips on hers and hands digging into her shoulders._

_"Please, Minister, can we do this in your office? I like the idea of being on your big, hard desk," she murmured, her voice husky with lust once more._

_He held back a moan of need and took her hand, Side Apparating them to his office without a second thought. The moment they landed, he began kissing her eagerly, his hands groping at her breasts and arse, his hard cock nestled between her legs._

_Ginevra manoeuvred them so she was perched on his desk and he was standing in front of her between her legs. Kissing him once more, she let him lie her back on the desk, his hands hurrying to unbutton her robes. Before he even finished unbuttoning the top two, Ginevra Stunned him, pushing him back into his chair gently. With a smirk at his shocked face, she pulled a tie from her pocket, tying it around his eyes so he couldn't see. Turning around, she hurried to search through the desk and surrounding cabinets for the documents she needed. Scanning a few scrolls, Ginevra deemed them useful and tapped her wand to them, making copies of the tens of scrolls she collected. The spell on the Minister was beginning to wear off, and she heard him squirming in his chair._

_"So sorry, Minister. Just be patient for a while longer, and then we can continue our little tryst," she said with a soft chuckle, continuing to copy more scrolls._

_When she was satisfied that she had enough evidence, Ginevra shrank the scrolls down and tucked them into her inner robe pocket. A quick memory alteration on the Minister had him believing that they had been involved in a very intense snogging session for the last few minutes, and the tie was nothing but a game. After using the fireplace beside the desk, a whispered grate number going through the flames, Ginevra sat on the Minister's lap, grinding against him briefly. She took the blindfold off, her lips on his as the final part of the charm wore off._

_"You were so very bad, Minister, trying to touch me when I hadn't allowed it," she murmured in his ear, her tongue flicking against his sensitive lobe._

_"Oh, oui, very bad, punish me," he moaned, arching his hips up towards hers, his hands firmly on her arse._

_"Alfonso?" a loud shriek came from their left._

_Ginevra pulled away from the Minister quickly, standing as far away from him as possible when she saw the head of the Minister's wife in the flames. Her bright red lipstick was smeared on his face and his erection more than obvious through his robes._

_"Is that really the Minister?" another voice asked, a second grate opening to reveal Anita Tasse, the French equivalent of Rita Skeeter, albeit a reporter with more public respect._

_The Minister's eyes widened comically at his compromising position and situation, and he began to stammer an explanation that neither woman believed._

_Ginevra left the room quickly and quietly so as not to draw attention to herself, taking a wipe from her purse to clean her ruined makeup. Ducking into a nearby bathroom, she undid her hair and brushed it out with quick strokes of her fingers. Once that was done, Ginevra unpinned her fringe from the top of her hair, letting it fall just over her eyes. She looked like a completely different woman from the one who had been bold enough to get an escort by the Minister himself._

_Now, she just had to get out of the spelled doorway without being noticed._

A beeping noise sounded loudly.

...

Ginny woke up, glaring at her Alarm Quill.

She had been having a nice dream about Draco and Blaise as waiters, their eyes on her as she danced in an elaborate ballroom. Then she'd been doing something - _searching for something, kissing someone? she couldn't remember_ \- and had to leave quickly. She'd escaped through a window on the second floor, cushioning spells softening her landing.

"You awake in there, Gin-bug?" George called, rapping on her door.

"Yeah, I'm awake," she called back, sighing heavily.

"Good to know. Don't forget you've got your date tonight," George said cheerfully, leaving to get breakfast ready.

Ginny smiled at the thought and hurried to get her things ready for another day at the Cloffice.

 

...

End of the twenty-second chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	23. Chapter 23

Pansy opened her grate after Lin transferred the firecall through, and she looked at the face hovering in the green flames with a frown. "You're reporting early, Skeleton. Is something wrong?"

"They know everything. They're everywhere. Oh, fuck, you have no idea what they've done," the reply came, the face in the flames looking harried and far less composed than normal.

"Deep breaths. Start from the beginning, Skeleton," Pansy said, a firm tone in her voice that she hoped the agent would respond to.

Doing as she said, Skeleton took a moment to breathe in deeply. Feeling calmer a few moments later, Skeleton began to relate the tale to Pansy, watching as the unflappable Director of the Centaur Liaison Office paled and became very damned flappable.

...

Ginny was exhausted after her day at the Training Centre, but she still managed to find enough energy to get ready for her date with Blaise that night.

As she entered the lounge room, buttoning up the final of her robe buttons, Ginny noticed that George was dressed up as well.

"You're going out with Pansy tonight?" she asked, putting new earrings in.

"Yes, I am. But I'll have you know, I dress this nice even if I'm not going on a date!" George said, pretending to be offended.

She laughed and kissed his cheek. "I'll believe it when I see it, dearest brother. Oh, I'm going to be late! Don't wait up," Ginny said, stepping around him to the fireplace.

"Yes, Mother. I'll make sure I'm in bed on time too," George said dutifully, grinning at her.

Ginny just laughed and Flooed to her office.

George settled back onto the armchair to wait for Pansy to arrive for their date.

...

Ginny couldn't help but feel nervous. Blaise was charming, of course, but there was little his charm could do to ease her nerves at that moment. They were sitting in one of the most expensive restaurants in Diagon Alley, and she felt as if everyone was staring at her, trying to figure out how she had come to be sitting there with _Blaise Zabini_ of all people.

"You can relax, Ginevra. I promise I won't bite... Yet," he added with a smirk.

She laughed despite herself, and was grateful to feel some of the tension leave her shoulders.

"All right, I'll try to relax more. This is a far more prestigious restaurant than I'm used to dining at," she admitted, glancing at the expanse of silver cutlery. "I feel like I've done nothing but work since leaving Hogwarts."

"Well, I'd be more than willing to change that, if you'd like," Blaise said, grinning.

A waiter appeared suddenly, as if he'd Apparated, and at their nod, began to list the chef's specials for the night. Ginny was thankful for the cooking class she'd done through Cloffice; with words like sauté and purée being thrown around when she'd grown up knowing little more than boil and bake, her dinner choice could have resulted in something awful. After they'd both decided on meals, the waiter disappeared again, as silently as he'd arrived.

"I might see how I go with tonight before agreeing to go anywhere this expensive again," Ginny admitted quietly.

Blaise nodded with a quick grin. "So despite the expensiveness of the restaurant, you'll go out with me again?"

Ginny tried not to laugh at his hopeful expression. "We'll see."

"So, are you planning on reporting about this lovely dinner with me as your charming companion for _The Quibbler_?"

"I really have no idea. It depends on how the evening ends," Ginny said, smiling as she sipped at her drink.

"If I'm lucky, it won't end until tomorrow morning," he said with a smirk.

Ginny almost spat out her drink, her eyes widened slightly as she stared at him. "Channelling Draco, are you?"

"I apologise. It's surprising how difficult it is to be here without him after spending so much time together," Blaise admitted, an embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks.

"How long _have_ you been together?" Ginny asked.

"Well, we grew up together, although when we were younger I thought he was a spoiled brat, and he thought I was weak. We grew out of that at Hogwarts, banding together as House-mates more often than not. Pesky Gryffindors and all that," Blaise added with a teasing smirk. "I knew I was attracted to Draco in fourth year. We've been exclusive since the war ended, but we first got together in our sixth year."

"You waited that long?"

"It's very hard to shag someone in a room with three other guys," he replied, shrugging.

"Tie on the door, silencing charms, and a locking charm didn't work?"

"We were in a House full of Slytherins who were conniving little bastards; actually most of them still are," he added, albeit fondly. "A tie on the door just screamed 'blackmail me', and silencing and locking charms are the furthest thing from your mind when you're attempting to undress someone and fuck them," Blaise said, smirking.

Ginny could suddenly imagine Draco and Blaise together, hands pulling at shirts and pants impatiently, both trying to wrest control from the other, their mouths battling fiercely for domination. _They'd fall onto the mattress together, the last shirt button undone and thrown away haphazardly, the pants being kicked away, and finally their hands would move to touch the bare skin.._.

"All right there, Ginevra?" Blaise asked, looking a mix between amused and worried.

"Fine," she hurried to reassure him, smiling quickly and trying not to think of the images her overactive imagination had provided her with.

It had been so lifelike that she swear she could smell the sweat and musky scent of sex between them. She hurried to take a drink of water, not letting herself dwell on the fact that her hand was trembling slightly.

"If you're sure?" he asked.

The waiter appeared once more, holding two plates for them. They were served and left alone in a matter of minutes, but Ginny turned the conversation to Quidditch in an effort to keep her imagination from running wild again. Blaise didn't seem to mind, and they conversed, bantering over the best Quidditch team between bites of food.

...

George glanced at the clock hanging to the side of the kitchen bench, despite knowing that five minutes hadn't even passed since he'd last looked. _Three minutes and forty-six seconds, to be precise_ , he thought with a sigh. This made Pansy almost two hours late for their date, and while George had never been the best at keeping appointments or dates himself, it was highly uncharacteristic for Pansy to be late. It meant that something was wrong; either with herself or Cloffice, he didn't know which.

 _Well, it'd be best to find out, don't you think, Georgie-boy_? Fred said in his mind, enough worry in his tone for both of them.

 _Yeah, and if she's just forgotten, then how stupid - not to mention desperate - would I look firecalling her two hours later_? George replied, tugging at his tie and loosening the choking feeling in his throat.

There was a moment of silence, but George didn't think that he'd won yet. Fred just made sure he had all angles covered in an argument before starting it. He'd been the same, and if they'd ever disagreed, he and Fred had often ended up convincing the other that they were right. George could start with a right direction, Fred with a left, and within a matter of minutes, Fred would be arguing to go right, and George would be telling his twin that left was obviously the only logical choice.

 _You'd look a lot less desperate now than if you firecalled her in another hour's time_ , Fred said triumphantly.

Frowning, George glanced to the fireplace. _Maybe Fred was right_...

 _Of course I am, Georgie-boy. I'm always right, aren't I_?

 _Not if you're left_ , George retorted with a wry grin.

 _That was terribly lame; now stop stalling. Floo powder. Fireplace. Now_.

Muttering, George stepped towards the fireplace, throwing in a handful of Floo powder and saying Pansy's home grate number. There was no answer, so he redirected the firecall to her office.

"George? Why are you calling me so early? Wait, what is the time?" Pansy asked when she saw his face in the flames after answering the call.

Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the time on her pocket watch. Just to be sure, she checked her wrist watch too.

"I'm so sorry, George. I didn't realise the time, or else I would have called to cancel. I've got an emergency, and I can't possibly leave now. Rain check?" Pansy offered.

George sighed and shook his head. "Not happening, Pans. Open the grate already, I'm running out of Floo powder."

Slightly put out, but curious as to what he thought he could do with the anti-Apparation wards up, Pansy unlocked the grate with her wand and a drop of blood, allowing George to step through. He stepped into her office, brushing off his robes quickly. George didn't bother attempting to look at the parchments spilled across her usually-neat desk, knowing that they were probably high-clearance and knowing that they would look like nothing more than gibberish to anyone other than Pansy. It was a product of _Wheezes_ , and a damned ingenious spell, if he did say so himself.

"I'm not leaving this office until everything's sorted, George, and don't think you can make me leave," Pansy said sternly, sitting at her desk once more.

"Wouldn't dream of it. I remember the last time someone tried to Apparate out of here. The medic team were up to their necks in Splinched body parts," he said with a shudder. "Now, Italian, Chinese, or Indian?"

Pansy frowned slightly. _He'd just agreed that he wouldn't get her to leave her office, so what on earth was he on about_?

"Indian," she said when he indicated for her to answer.

"Sounds good to me. I'll be right back," George said with a cheery whistle, leaving her office to the reception area.

Pansy heard him call out a greeting to Lin as the door closed behind him. Shaking her head slightly, she made herself return to her work, and the seemingly impossible task of getting Skeleton back in the country. Preferably **before** Skeleton was killed.

She was still looking at the finances, the availability of her agents, and the likelihood of torture or death when George knocked on the door to be let in. Despite being distracted, she wasn't a fool, and a quick one-sided spell on the transparency of the door allowed her to see that George was alone and not being manipulated by someone to get into her office. Pansy opened the door, and the moment she smelled the food he was carrying, her stomach immediately gurgled in anticipation, most of her worries leaving her for the moment.

"It's from Marco. Butter chicken and basmati rice for the lady. And tandoori with steamed rice for me. As an added bonus, the poppadoms were tossed in for free," George said, grinning broadly. "Be a dear and conjure up a table for us so we can eat?"

Pansy nodded, hurrying to transfigure two quills and an ink bottle into a small table and chairs. George set the food down, allowing her to check it for poisons or hidden potions.

"All right to eat?" he asked, sitting across from her.

Biting into a poppadom, Pansy simply nodded.

"Thank the gods, I'm so hungry... I got stood up by my date, you know. But then, she did tell me the date and place in my bad ear, so I might've got it wrong," George added, rubbing at his ear.

"I think you're right. You must have got it wrong," Pansy said with a quick smile.

"What?" George asked, turning slightly and cupping his good ear.

"I said that you must have gotten the date and place wrong," she repeated.

"No, not that. The first bit. About me being right," George added, grinning cheekily.

Pansy rolled her eyes at him, scooping some food onto her poppadom instead of answering, her mind going back over everything Skeleton had told her that morning. George didn't mind at her silence, knowing that she would be thinking over whatever problem had delayed their date in the first place. The amount of times Pansy had put up with him and Fred thinking about products for the shop, or leaving mid-date to write something down that they were sure would make them millions of Galleons, he was surprised she hadn't just left them after the first time it had happened.

"I can't stop thinking, and I can't think of a way to solve this problem. Distract me for a while, George? Talk to me?" Pansy asked, certain that her thoughts were trying to drive her insane.

"I think I can manage that. It's not easy talking incessantly, you know, but I've got it down to an art. It's quite easy if you just don't think. Which is really something stupid to say if you think about it. But if you're not thinking, then you don't have to think about it, so there's little point in it at all. If no one thought about anything, then people would just be doing the most stupid things all the time. People would jump off roofs without brooms; spend away their wealth without a second thought, or even a first thought, really; they'd try to get more money from the wealthy by kidnapping people, but since they hadn't thought about it, they'd probably kidnap the wrong person, and end up getting kicked in the head for their efforts... What? I'll have you know that getting kicked in the head is extremely painful!" George said defensively when Pansy's eyes widened for a moment.

"Oh, you're a genius. An absolute bloody _genius_ ," Pansy said, kissing him gratefully. "Now, get going. I've got to make a few calls that you don't have clearance for."

"Fine, but I'm taking these with me," George said, grabbing the remaining poppadoms before she could protest.

Pansy kissed him once more before he Flooed back to his apartment with his dinner (minus a few poppadoms that she'd stolen from him without George noticing), and when he was gone, she returned the table and chairs to their original forms. Finishing the last of her meal before it went to waste, Pansy looked over her parchments one final time. This idea would take precision, and there was only one person she could trust to get it done properly. Throwing a handful of Floo powder on the fireplace, Pansy called a grate number.

"I'm not interrupting your evening, am I, Snare?" she asked when the grate was answered.

"No. What do you need?" Dennis asked.

"I need you to kidnap someone."

...

"Do you know how to play poker?" Draco asked, walking down Horizon Alley with Ginny beside him.

"I grew up with the twins, of course I know how to play."

"Fair enough," he conceded with a nod. "But do you know how to win?" Draco asked, smirking.

Ginny laughed brightly. "By the time I was ten years old, I didn't have to do a single chore in the house for months at a time."

Draco chuckled. "I don't doubt it. But you haven't played against me, so you might not be quite so lucky, Miss Weasley," he said with a teasing wink.

"Luck had nothing to do with it, Mr. Malfoy," she taunted. Shivering in the cool morning air, Ginny pulled her robe around her body a bit tighter, and looked around them. "Remind me again why our date had to be this late at night? Or more appropriately, this early in the morning? Where are we going anyway?"

"To answer both of your questions: you'll see soon enough," Draco said, grinning.

He wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders, doing a silent warming spell to ward off the chill in the air.

"Thank you," Ginny said with a smile, leaning into his embrace.

"You're most welcome. Ah, here we are," Draco said, stopping at a door that looked no different to the others in the street.

Ginny raised an eyebrow slightly, but chose to stay silent. Draco opened the door, smirking slightly at her expression, his own eyebrow raised and seeming to issue a challenge, daring her to step inside. Grinning, she stepped through the open doorway, stopping short on seeing what was inside.

"A bakery?"

"Yes, and a damned good one, if I do say so myself."

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, such a pleasure to see you again," a kind voice said from the counter. "I do hope you've brought the supplies I requested last week?"

Ginny looked to see someone who appeared to be nothing more than a nice old lady filling the display shelves in the counter, her grey hair tied up in a bun. Draco moved slightly, part of his body hidden by Ginny, and she realised that he was _afraid_ of this kind-looking woman.

"My apologies, Mrs. Fairley, I'll bring them by later this afternoon after my date with Ginevra."

The woman scoffed in disbelief. "I'll believe that when I see it... I suppose you want something for free, even though you didn't bring my supplies?"

"Do you mind?" Draco asked.

"Of course not. You have to impress the young lady somehow, and as you obviously aren't willing to spend your millions of Galleons to do so, I suppose a free pastry or two will have to suffice."

Ginny tried not to laugh at the woman's words, but her body trembled with laughter when she heard Draco muttering behind her.

"Looks like I've saved the best date 'til last," she said, grinning over her shoulder at him.

"Bloody hell, she's meant to have today off, not be here and make me look... _cheap_ ," he said, shuddering in disgust.

Ginny kissed his cheek, smiling again. "Come on, maybe if you promise to bring more of her supplies, Mrs. Fairley will throw in a free pot of tea."

Mrs. Fairley smirked, and looked directly at Draco. "I like her. Hope you're planning on staying, dear; as you can see, he desperately needs someone to keep him in line. Blaise is useless when it comes to saying no to young Mr. Malfoy there, but I'm sure you'll keep them both on the straight and narrow, if you decide to stick with them."

"I think I'll see how this date goes first," Ginny said, grinning.

"Well, I'll get the good plates out for you, dear. I'll have to make Mr. Malfoy's little shop look halfway decent, even if he is late with my supplies," Mrs. Fairley said with a heavy sigh.

"You own this?" Ginny asked Draco, surprised that he would own something so quaint.  


"My name's on the paperwork, but Mrs. Fairley definitely lets me know that she's the one who runs things," Draco muttered. "She's very damned lucky that she makes the best eclairs in the wizarding world."

Mrs. Fairley just laughed. "With a sweet tooth like yours, boy, I needed this shop just to keep up with your demands! When he was younger, his mother would bring him in, and he'd pick the biggest and most sugary dessert he could see. Of course, since he was so small, I kept the eclairs on the top shelf. Took him three years to realise that there was more than just sugared and frosted doughnuts in here," she said, winking at Ginny.

"I thought you'd said you'd make me look good? Why are you bringing up embarrassing childhood stories?" Draco muttered.

"If you can't make yourself look good even with the embarrassing stories, you might as well go home now," she replied pointedly.

Ginny barely refrained from laughing. Mrs. Fairley looked so small, yet Draco, who was almost two feet taller than her, had withered under her gaze.

"Now, what'll you have, dear? Pick anything you like," Mrs. Fairley said, smiling at Ginny sweetly.

Stepping forward, Ginny looked at the display cabinet carefully. It was still early, but she had been awake for almost twenty hours now, and she was hungry.

"That chocolate croissant looks lovely; I'll have that please," she said with a bright smile.

"Lovely manners too. Draco, if you don't impress her tonight, I will hex you."

"Yes, Mrs. Fairley... I'll have a..."

"Chocolate eclair, yes, I know. Sit, sit. I'll bring them out for you with a pot of tea," Mrs. Fairley said, shooing Ginny away from the counter and giving her another kind smile.

Going back to Draco, Ginny let him guide her to a small booth, sliding onto the seat across from him.

"You must be very fond of Mrs. Fairley," Ginny said, grinning briefly.

"I am, but don't tell her I said that," Draco said, glancing over his shoulder to ensure they hadn't been overheard.

"Is she really **that** scary?"

"I have a healthy dose of fear for anyone who could take my father to task. She is one of the few, and Mrs. Fairley managed it in under a minute," Draco said, smirking at the memory. "I think I was about six years old, and mother brought me in for a treat because I'd been ... very brave that week," he said, briefly skating over the event, and continuing before he could be questioned. "When Mrs. Fairley saw my broken arm and black eye, I swear the ground itself shook. After she'd finished with him, Lucius was all but ready to lock himself in Azkaban."

"What on earth did she say to him?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Mrs. Fairley's never told me," he replied with a shrug. "But apparently, I've got that particular memory bequeathed to me on her death. Though, it's more likely that I'll die before her. I swear on my mother's grave that Mrs. Fairley hasn't aged a day since I first came in here."

"No need to go to such extremes, boy. You'd be very upset if your mother died because I suddenly got a wrinkle," Mrs. Fairley said, setting down a tray with two plates, a pot of tea, and two teacups on the table. "Here's your chocolate croissant, dear. I heated a bit, just to make it extra nice. Here's your eclair... Stop swearing things on your poor mother's grave. Have a bit of self-respect and swear it on your own grave."

"But if I die, who'll eat your lovely eclairs?"

"Everyone at your funeral, I'd say. You think I don't know about that thousand-batch order you've got written up in your will?"

"How'd you know about that?" Draco asked in surprise.

"Blaise warned me so I'd know to stock up on ingredients the minute you were six feet under."

"Oh, that bastard. Ow!" Draco hissed, wincing when Mrs. Fairley twisted his ear sharply.

"What have I told you about that sort of language?"

"Sorry! Won't happen again!"

"That's what you said last time."

"I meant it then too."

Mrs. Fairley didn't look convinced, but let go of his ear, ignoring Draco as he rubbed it gingerly, and turned to Ginny. "Try not to think of Mr. Malfoy too poorly because of his bad language, dear. He should know better than to use such indecent language in front of a lady."

"I think I'll forgive him this time, Mrs. Fairley," Ginny said, proud that she was able to keep her voice steady and not laugh.

"There's a dear. Now, I'll leave you two to talk while I finish preparing everything. Just leave the dishes when you're done, I'll clear it up for you," she added, heading back to the counter.

Ginny waited until Mrs. Fairley was out of earshot before looking to Draco. "How's your ear?"

"Bloody sore," he muttered.

She laughed, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "If you can't eat your eclair because of the pain, I'll have to eat it for you."

Draco chuckled, but still moved his plate out of her reach. "Very unlikely, Ginevra. I'd be able to eat eclairs even if my jaw was hexed shut."

"I'd pay a Galleon to see that!"

Smirking, Draco just lifted his eclair to take a bite. Ginny bit into her croissant, almost moaning in delight as it melted in her mouth.

"Oh, wow. This is **good**."

Draco was still chewing, but nodded, grinning at her. Taking another bite, Ginny did make a sound of pleasure as the warm chocolate filled her mouth, mixing with the melting pastry. Unable or unwilling to stop eating, Ginny finished her croissant quickly. However fast she'd eaten was still slower than Draco, who seemed ready to lick the last few crumbs from his plate.

"That was delicious. Can I have the rest of the store?" Ginny asked, grinning.

"Not tonight or you'll be sick and you'll hate me in the morning," Draco said.

"You're trying to convince yourself, aren't you?"

"Definitely," he said with a chuckle, pouring a cup of tea for both of them. "So, how's my date comparing to Blaise's pitiful one?"

"I'm not making comparisons, Draco. But I will say that his date definitely wasn't pitiful. You two can gossip like old hens to each other, not me," she said.

Draco pouted briefly, but it soon turned into a grin, and he reached over the table. "You've got got a bit of icing sugar there," he murmured, his thumb stroking her chin to remove the white smear.

"You've got chocolate about here," she replied, indicating to the spot on her face. "No, the other side," Ginny said, laughing.

"You weren't going to let me go walking around with chocolate on my face all day, were you?"

"You'll never know," she taunted, sipping at her tea.

"So what are your plans for the weekend?" Draco asked, drinking his own tea. "Lunch at _The Burrow_ tomorrow?"

"Yes, how did you know that?" Ginny asked with a slight frown.

"George... He specified that he can't conduct business on Saturday due to a family engagement that is scheduled from now until the end of time. I took an educated guess about the lunch," he replied.

Nodding, despite the niggling feeling that he wasn't quite telling the truth, Ginny asked Draco about his own plans for the weekend. Even as he answered with a long-winded response about dinner with Blaise and their mothers, and how he and Blaise often tried to avoid the matriarchs' interrogation, Ginny couldn't help but notice his relief at the change of topic.

...

"You think I'm just overanalysing everything, don't you, Fred?" Ginny asked, sitting beside his tombstone.

George had declared his intention to visit Fred that morning, far too loudly and cheerfully after Ginny's early-morning date with Draco and subsequent lack of sleep. She'd been having a very nice dream about Draco too, which she was quite annoyed to have interrupted. George had been called away to the shop - _something about a malfunctioning cauldron by a harried-looking Oliver_ \- and Ginny had decided to come see Fred on her own.

Sighing, she leaned against the tombstone as if it was Fred sitting beside her.

"I know I must sound absolutely daft, thinking all of this, but I swear it's work making me paranoid and insane. The dreams aren't helping either," Ginny muttered. "They're so lifelike, I swear it's like they've happened before!" Making a sound of frustration, Ginny buried her head in her hands. "I'm going insane, that's what it is."

"Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, so I've heard," George said cheerfully as he walked up to her.

"I was talking to Fred," she retorted.

"Right, like that's any better," he said with a snort. "Don't worry, I talk to him all the time. You're just as sane as I am," George said, grinning at her.

"Luna should get royalties for that saying; you say it often enough to make her rich," Ginny muttered.

"You wound me, dearest sister, truly. I cannot believe that you'd insinuate Luna created that saying. Why, Fred and I thought of it long before little Miss Luna came along!"

Ginny laughed. "Prove it and I'll believe it."

Waving off her reply, George just grinned and sat on the other side of the tombstone, passing her a Butterbeer to drink.

Together, they sat with Fred and watched the sun set.

...

End of the twenty-third chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	24. Chapter 24

"As you are aware, you were not tested on your massage skills last week. Therefore, your test will be done after lunch," Pansy informed Ginny, Morrigan, Jordan and Claudia during their lunch break on Monday.

 

Frowning slightly, Ginny wondered what was happening to make Pansy look so stressed. Pansy usually had her emotions on a tight leash, but there was a pinched sound to her voice, and the Glamour that she'd used hadn't completely covered the dark bags under her eyes.

 

 _You could talk to her, you know_ , the little voice in her head murmured, a sense of concern tinged in the words.

 

 _Yeah, and have her hex me for trying to get classified information from her_?

 

 _How do you know it's classified? She might just be having a bad day and want to talk to someone. It's not like she'll have friends lined up around the block; at least, not ones who know about Cloffice_.

 

 _How do you know that? It's not like we've met everyone in Cloffice; all of her Slytherin friends could be here_ , Ginny retorted.

 

 _That's highly unlikely; do you really think that anyone in Slytherin was really her friend? Even Draco and Blaise are a bit standoffish when it's to do with Cloffice. Besides all that, any other Slytherin would have tried to wrest control of this place ages ago_. _I'm done arguing, do what you like_.

 

 _What? You can't just say that and leave_!

 

There was no answer, and Ginny frowned to herself as she saw Pansy get up and leave the cafeteria.

 

"Are you all right, Ginny?" Morrigan asked.

 

"Fine; sorry, did you ask something?" Ginny asked, turning her attention back to her.

 

"Just wondering which one of us will be massaging who," she said with a grin.

 

Ginny grinned back at her, suddenly grateful that Draco and Blaise had already left for the gym.

 

...

 

"Emergency firecall on grate one," Lin informed Pansy, her head appearing in the fireplace.

 

Pansy thanked her briefly, and when Lin's head had disappeared, she used some Floo powder to access the first grate. She had been expecting the call, and wasn't surprised to see Dennis' head floating in the flames a moment later. Pansy just hoped that the news would be better than the feeling in the pit of her stomach suggested.

 

"Skeleton hasn't arrived to the rendezvous spot. I've checked both the work and home premises, but there's nothing there. Require further instruction," Snare said.

 

Suddenly wishing that her gut instinct had failed her - _just this once_ \- Pansy refrained from sighing, and tried not to show the pain from her stomach twisting.

 

"Do a final check of both premises; be as thorough as time allows, and bring anything back that you believe may be of use, including Skeleton's personal belongings." Before Dennis could close the grate, Pansy continued, "Once you return, you are to have the rest of the week off, Snare. I do not expect you to be over there for all of that time, understood?"

 

"My class..."

 

"Will be covered," Pansy interrupted sternly. "Understood?"

 

"Understood."

 

Dennis closed the grate with a sigh. Once he had gathered his things, he left the small apartment he'd been given temporarily by Cloffice. Heading down the street, Dennis headed towards Skeleton's apartment, and towards the Eiffel Tower.

 

...

 

Ginny held back a groan of disappointment when she saw that she'd be massaging the leery wizard from Draco and Blaise's group. He looked at her with a broad and knowing smile, and she couldn't help but feel ill. Still, she smiled brightly, all too aware that she was being judged on this, and indicated down to the curtained partitions.

 

"This way, if you please," Ginny said.

 

"I definitely do," he said with another grin.

 

Repressing her shudder, she followed the wizard down to the partitions. Ginny was positive that she could feel Draco and Blaise staring after her, and took some solace in the thought that they'd be just as disappointed as her about this arrangement.

 

"This is just a back massage, please put your pants back on," Ginny said, wishing she was massaging anyone but this man, and wondering just how quickly he could get undressed.

 

Turning to close the curtains behind her, she saw Blaise holding Draco back, and tried to assure them with a smile that she would be fine. Neither one looked convinced, but then Claudia got Blaise's name for a massage, and Ginny shut the curtains with a snap before she could hex the blonde woman.

 

"If you could lie down on your stomach and put your face at the end there, I'll get started," Ginny said.

 

Reluctant, but seeming to realise that Ginny wasn't going to be open to his advances in any way, shape, or form, the wizard did as she instructed.

 

Starting the massage, Ginny concentrated on the movements of her hands, her eyes looking to the spots that could incapacitate a person with the right amount of pressure. Listing them each in her head as she continued with her massage, Ginny was surprised to hear the Alarm Quill go off and find that she'd completed a thirty minute massage already. Once the wizard had taken some tea, Ginny showed him to a seat and massaged his shoulders, neck, and head. Once that was done, she offered him a hot towel to refresh, and left so he could evaluate her massage in private. She was fairly sure he was watching her arse as she left the curtained room, and tried not to shudder.

 

...

 

"We'll hex him if he touched you in any inappropriate way. We know how to do hexes so they're untraceable, and he won't miss a finger or two, honestly!" Draco exploded later that night when Ginny met him and Blaise for their date.

 

"He didn't touch me in any appropriate way... Besides, do you really think that I would have let him leave that area without some sort of pain inflicted if he **had** attempted to touch me?" Ginny asked, her arms folded across her chest indignantly.

 

She was somewhat annoyed to be greeted this way without a _hello_ or even a kiss, damn them!

 

Blaise had been quiet, but looked just as murderous as Draco sounded. Before Ginny could tell either of them off, Blaise moved forward and snogged her as if he was afraid she'd run off with the leery wizard. Clutching at his robes for dear life, Ginny responded to his heated and desperate kiss with all of her annoyance and anger.

 

"Hello," Blaise breathed once they pulled away.

 

"Ah, fuck," Draco muttered.

 

Somewhat lightheaded from Blaise's kiss, Ginny couldn't even attempt to stop Draco to tell him off. But then Draco was kissing her intently, his arms wrapped low around her waist, and he proceeded to make her forget why she was annoyed in the first place.

 

"Hello, love," he murmured against her lips.

 

"Mmhmm," she moaned, her mind scrambling to catch up. "What were we talking about?" Ginny asked, blinking a few times owlishly. "Oh, that's right; I was annoyed at you."

 

"Was?" Draco asked hopefully.

 

"After that kiss, definitely _was_ ," she quipped, grinning and pressing a kiss to his lips.

 

"I'd like to keep it that way, so would the lovely lady care to join us for dinner?" Draco asked with a low and sweeping bow, kissing her hand dramatically.

 

"Kisses **and** food? You know how to appease an annoyed woman," Ginny said with a laugh, accepting Blaise's offered arm.

 

"The same tactic works on Draco all the time," Blaise confided, winking at her.

 

Laughing heartily, Ginny let both men guide her to the dining room for their date.

 

...

 

Exhausted from her day, musical notes seeming to swim before her eyes, Ginny was somewhat glad that she didn't have a date with Draco and Blaise that night. She could barely see straight, and doubted that she'd last for very long after dinner with George before needing to go to bed.

 

"Geez, Gin-bug, what's got you looking like you've been hit by a Hippogriff?" George asked the moment she stepped out of the fireplace.

 

"Thanks, George, really," she muttered. "Music classes. _All damn day_. Common time, simple time, treble clef, bass clef, breve, crotchets and quavers, sharps and flats... Gods, I'll be having nightmares about today for longer than anything else I've done at Cloffice," Ginny said, shuddering.

 

George winced. "I completely sympathise. Would you like a headache potion, food, or bed?"

 

"All three? Not in that order," she added.

 

"Right. Sit down, and I'll serve the maestro's dinner," George offered, kissing the top of her head.

 

"Thanks, George," Ginny said, collapsing onto the dining room chair gratefully.

 

George coerced her to eat the dinner he'd cooked, then sat at the piano and played soft and slow music to soothe her. The tempo increased and she watched in awe as he transformed simple C major scales into a symphony of sound. Finishing her dinner, Ginny moved to sit beside George, joining in the music the best she could, and grateful for his patience if she got a note or two wrong. He corrected her, telling her why it was wrong, and how she had to listen to the sounds of each individual note. Despite her earlier exhaustion, Ginny found that she was excited to continue, and together, they practised playing well into the night.

 

...

 

Neville woke up, opening an eye blearily when he heard a noise. Fumbling about on his side table, he eventually located his pocket watch and saw the time.

 

"It's four-thirty in the morning, Dennis. Come back to bed," he mumbled.

 

Dennis didn't seem inclined to answer, and continued to pace back and forth. Yawning widely, Neville rolled out of bed, his eyes still somewhat closed. When he was close enough, he put his arms around Dennis' body, firmly keeping him on the spot.

 

"Sleep now. You're not going to help anyone by wearing a hole in our brand-new rug," Neville murmured, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

 

Sighing softly, Dennis wrapped his arms around Neville, hating how useless he felt. Skeleton was nowhere to be found - and he'd looked for her for three days straight, no matter what Pansy had instructed - and the fact that he couldn't find her frustrated him to no end.

 

"I guess you're right," Dennis muttered, starting to feel calm again in Neville's arms.

 

He shook his head slightly when he realised that Neville had fallen asleep against him. Pressing a kiss to Neville's forehead, Dennis took him back to bed, tucking the blanket around him gently. Only when Neville was in a deep enough sleep did Dennis get into bed beside him, loathe to wake him up.

 

Sleep didn't come easy, but when it finally claimed him, Dennis' dreams were filled with skeletons and shallow graves.

 

...

 

_Ginevra hurried along the passageway, ignoring the numerous doors on either side of her. She knew exactly where she was headed, and it didn't take her long to reach her destination. Opening the door to the library, she slipped inside quietly, a surreptitious glance ensuring that she was alone._

 

 _Walking straight over to a certain bookcase, Ginevra took a book off the shelf, flipping through the pages until she came to page 315. Moving to sit on the window seat, she read the page carefully, words seeming to jump out at her._ Trust, love, desire, understanding, love, love, love _._

 

_"Still reading that book, Amelie?" a voice asked, and she looked away from the book to see a man standing in the library's doorway, looking at her in amusement._

 

_"It's my favourite book, Jacques, of course I am," Ginevra replied with a bright smile._

 

_Leaving the book on the window seat, she stood and crossed the room, kissing him gently. He grinned against her lips and wrapped his arms around her tightly._

 

 _"We're almost there, Amelie. Not much longer, and the vision of_ La Révolution _will come to life," Jacques breathed. (_ The Revolution _. French.)_

 

 _Ginevra's excitement at his news mirrored his own, but inside she was screaming, screaming, screaming_.

 

...

 

Ginny woke up with a scream.

 

"Gin? You all right?" George asked groggily, knocking on her door a moment later.

 

Her heart was racing, and Ginny felt nauseous, her stomach twisting in knots. Ginny would have tried to open her mouth to reply, but knew that if she did, she'd be sick.

 

"Gin? What's wrong?" George asked, sounding concerned as his knocking grew louder.

 

She still couldn't bring herself to reply, but she had no real idea why. It was just a dream, just a bad dream, and that was it. She had no idea who this Jacques guy was, or how her dream had suddenly started to involve a few references to _La Révolution_ , but Ginny told herself that it was stupid to let herself become so affected by a **dream**.

 

"Fine. I'm fine," she managed to call, moments before George broke down the door.

 

"You sure?" he asked hesitantly.

 

"Positive. Sorry about all of the screaming, you can go back to sleep now," Ginny called, feeling awful for having woken him in the first place.

 

"All right. Just call out if you need me," George replied, leaving back to his room where he was monitoring Ginny's dreams.

 

Lying down once more, Ginny closed her eyes tightly and willed sleep to claim her. Sleep, of course, didn't obey her, and she couldn't get back to sleep. Opening her eyes once more, Ginny got out of bed quietly, hoping not to disturb George again. She couldn't sleep, and she couldn't practice the piano, nor leave her room for risk of making too much noise. Looking at her bookcase, Ginny frowned and moved over to it, a particular title jumping out at her.

 

 _It was the same book from her dream_ , she realised, the sick twisting feeling returning. Opening to page 315, Ginny saw the same words become clear to her all over again. She snapped the book shut firmly, threw it back at the bookcase, and returned to her bed all in a matter of seconds.

 

Her dreams were filled with a woman named Amelie, a woman with her face, who spoke with her voice, but who lived a very different life. Ginny tossed and turned all night, as if some part of her was fighting Amelie's resurrection.

 

...

 

"You're not concentrating, Ginevra. Are you all right?" Blaise asked, lowering his sword.

 

Ginny, whose mind was still on her dreams from earlier that morning, tried not to look too sheepish. She lowered her sword too before she accidentally stabbed someone with it.

 

"Fine, sorry just thinking about things."

 

"Like what?" Draco asked, leaning on his sword as he looked at her.

 

Shrugging, Ginny wasn't entirely sure what to say. She had no idea how to explain anything to them without making it sound as if she was completely insane.

 

 _They're not going to accept a shrug as an answer. Think of something to say_.

 

 _Like what? It's not like they'll accept a lie either_.

 

 _It doesn't have to be a lie. You were thinking of other things earlier, weren't you? They didn't ask what you were asking about right this very moment, were they_? If her subconscious had a face, it would have the world's sneakiest and smuggest smile on its face, one that would rival the greatest smirker in the Malfoy family.

 

"I was thinking about yesterday's class on pillow talk," she admitted with a guilty grin.

 

"What about it?" Blaise asked curiously, grinning back at her.

 

"How I felt absolutely hopeless at it," Ginny replied truthfully.

 

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that," Draco said, his gaze running over her appreciatively.

 

"Leering over my body isn't reassuring me of my ability to get information out of someone after screwing them," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

"You can try it on us," Blaise said, stepping in front of Draco.

 

He flicked his foot back, kicking Draco in the shin. Draco cursed softly, and Blaise just grinned at the expression on Ginny's face at his suggestion.

 

"What do you mean, try it on you?" Ginny asked warily.

 

 _She had a vision of them together, skin-on-skin, the smell of sex and sweat filling the air as they fucked her, all the while she tried to piece together sentences to get them to reveal their deepest and darkest secrets_.

 

"We can use a spell to make us all feel as though we've just had a mind-blowing orgasm, and then - if you can still speak - you can try to use the techniques you learnt yesterday on us," Blaise explained, grinning.

 

"Or, if you'd prefer, we can do it the old-fashioned way, and I can just fuck you against the closest surface," Draco offered, smirking.

 

"Spell, please," Ginny said, barely keeping her emotions under control as it was, a blush threatening to spread across her cheeks.

 

Draco shrugged briefly, but gave her a wink as he pointed his wand at her. Blaise pointed his wand at Draco, and getting the idea, Ginny pointed her wand at Blaise.

 

"You know the spell?" Blaise asked.

 

When she shook her head, Blaise moved to her, taking her wand hand in his own and demonstrating the technique, murmuring the spell under his breath. Her breath caught in her throat as Blaise pressed a kiss to her neck, his tongue flicking out to tease and taste her.

 

"You have to seal it with a kiss or touch for the spell to work," Blaise murmured in explanation.

 

He kept his body pressed against hers as he continued to kiss her, before turning Ginny around in his embrace to kiss her lips heatedly. She moaned, holding him against her tightly and kissing him deeply in return.

 

"Looks like you two won't be needing the spell after all," Draco said, chuckling.

 

"Jealous?" Blaise asked, opening one eye to look at him.

 

"Of course I am."

 

Ginny laughed, pulling away from Blaise. She grinned and moved over to Draco, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him eagerly. He smirked against her lips, kissing her back, his hands sliding down her hips. Ginny gasped in delight as he lifted one of her legs to wrap it around his waist, her fingers fisting into his hair.

 

"You sure you don't just want to shag, love?" Draco asked with a smirk, nipping at her bottom lip.

 

"Fairly sure," she replied dazedly.

 

 _Make that 20% 'I'm sure' and 80% 'fuck me now', and that'd be more realistic_.

 

_Oh, shut up, and go away already._

 

 _You really think I'd miss out on this? Please, go right ahead and continue_.

 

Ginny didn't know whether to be amused or worried at her voyeuristic subconscious, since by all accounts, it was _her_ own subconscious.

 

"All right, since you're so sure," Draco murmured, stepping back from her.

 

Ginny immediately missed his warmth, reaching out to him for more. Draco obliged her immediately, bringing her into his arms again and kissing her until Ginny felt lightheaded and limp.

 

"Stop... Stop now, or I won't stop at all," Ginny moaned.

 

"You really think I have that kind of willpower?" Draco asked with a smirk, but stepped back nonetheless.

 

"More than me," she said, trying to control her breathing.

 

"We're only doing what you asked, Ginevra. I'm more than happy to continue," Blaise said with a grin.

 

"I definitely am too," Draco said, smirking.

 

Licking her lips gently, Ginny looked between them, wishing that she could just give in and say yes. She wanted to, she wanted to so utterly desperately, but this was only their fifth date (seventh if she counted the individual dates with them), and Ginny didn't want to look like she was easy or desperate.

 

Draco and Blaise both seemed to sense her indecision, and with a great deal of reluctance, they lifted their wands again. With a quick smile, Ginny tried to remember the spell and motion, and pointed her wand at them. A moment later, the spell was done, and a pink haze filled their minds. There was a low moan of appreciation, Ginny clutching Draco and Blaise's hands tightly. They both moved to kiss her at the same time, Draco's lips on hers and Blaise's on her neck. The haze faded from their minds, and they all pulled away, breathing heavily.

 

"Best fake orgasm of my life," Draco said, chuckling.

 

"I'm sure you say that to all of the girls," Ginny said, grinning at him.

 

"He doesn't, and neither do I for that matter," Blaise added with a wink.

 

"Good to know."

 

"So, are we going to be dazzled by your pillow talk?" Draco asked, grinning.

 

Ginny kissed each of them in turn, moving to lie on the mat beneath them. Draco and Blaise followed suit, curling themselves around her as if they knew every nuance of her body and how they could fit themselves perfectly against her. 

 

Taking the time to kiss them again, Ginny held their hands, caressing them as she started to ask vague questions. To anyone who had just had an orgasm as intense as the one the spell made them think they'd had, the questions would be answered without the answer realising the important information they contained. At least, that's what Ginny hoped would happen. She had to work very hard to get her own haze-filled mind to clear so she could actually remember the answers, let alone what she'd asked.

 

When Ginny determined that she'd got as many answers as she could, she stopped with a sigh, and moved to lie on her back, looking between them.

 

"Next time, you might want to stick to about four, maybe five questions. Eleven's a bit much," Blaise murmured, his fingers tracing her cheek.

 

"I did think you were getting a bit hesitant at the end," Ginny admitted.

 

"Well, I was getting exhausted. An orgasm like that, even a fake one, is bound to knock me out in a few minutes. Apparently I snore like the Hogwarts Express," Draco said, grinning.

 

"Never mind that... If he's getting exhausted, he's more likely to give answers just to shut you up. They might be a bit muffled if he's trying to eat his pillow though, so you'll have to listen carefully," Blaise said, moving to kiss her.

 

Ginny clutched Draco's hand as Blaise kissed her, and she heard the blonde man chuckling as he moved to kiss Blaise and draw him away from her slowly.

 

"And, as you'll notice, Blaise needs at least four fake-orgasms before he'll impersonate the Hogwarts Express," Draco said. "He's a snuggler," he added with a wink, moving Blaise's arms so that they were wrapped around Ginny's body.

 

Blaise just grinned, pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and held on a bit tighter. "Never heard him complain about the way I snuggle before. Draco likes being the small spoon most nights."

 

"Unless Blaise is in a bad mood, and then I have to hold him down just so he won't sleepwalk later," Draco said, yawning.

 

"You walk in your sleep?" Ginny asked in surprise.

 

"Not often, but it's happened," he replied.

 

Draco was starting to doze off, and Ginny became extremely aware of the fact that she was pinned to a fairly uncomfortable training mat by two men who were about to fall asleep on top of her. Draco moved to rest his head on her shoulder, Blaise pressed another kiss to her cheek and snuggled in closer, and Ginny figured she could sleep for a while too. She closed her eyes, intent on only resting for half an hour, and fell asleep in their embraces.

 

...

 

"I was wondering where you were, dearest sister. Are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?" George asked, grinning at Ginny knowingly as she arrived in their apartment while he was preparing breakfast. "You had a good night with Messrs. Malfoy and Zabini, I assume?"

 

"Nothing happened, George, stop looking at me like that," Ginny said, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

 

He just laughed in response, and served up his breakfast of pancakes and strawberries. Ginny scowled at him, nicking a strawberry off his plate before going to have a shower.

 

Standing under the hot spray of water for a long moment, Ginny thought back to that morning, when she'd woken up in the arms of Draco and Blaise, their arms and bodies wrapped around her. Draco did snore loudly, and she was surprised that she hadn't woken up at the noise; Blaise was wrapped around her as if he was her very own blanket, and yet Ginny hadn't felt claustrophobic or uncomfortable with his weight on her.

 

Dreams and nightmares had plagued her throughout the night, a woman with her face but not her name, a woman who knew things that she knew, but who knew even more, a woman who was part of _La Révolution_. Amelie was French and had lived there all of her life; she adored Lord Voldemort, and loved her boyfriend Jacques even more. Ginny had only ever been to France once to attend a party at Bill and Fleur's home, she loathed Riddle, and was still falling in love with Draco and Blaise. She wasn't that woman, but somewhere in the depths of her heart and head, Ginny was terrified that she **was** Amelie. The very idea of it was starting to drive her insane. Ginny was starting to question her own self, her own memory and her entire life in England. _If Amelie's life in France was so clear in her own head, then who's to say that her own life as Ginny wasn't the dream, the fantasy? She didn't know whether she was really a French woman masquerading as a British one, if her entire relationship with Harry had been a ruse to get to the Chosen One, and what her relationship with Draco and Blaise meant now_.

 

 _You idiot._ ** _Absolute idiot._** _Do you honestly remember every single thing about that woman's life? You remember when you were three years old and got the dragon pox? You've still got the scar from scratching even when you were told not to_.

 

Ginny looked at her wet arm, a small scar on her right forearm from that scratching. Molly had been sympathetic, but stern as she'd told her that it would leave a scar, and no spell could remove the blemish. She tried to think of Amelie's life, a time when the French woman could have received such a scar. There was nothing that came to mind; no childhood illness, no scrape from climbing one of the orchard trees, nothing that could have caused such a tiny blemish in Amelie's entire life. Touching the scar, Ginny felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was still **her** , still Ginevra Molly Weasley, so long as she had this reminder of herself.

 

But there was still a nagging sensation in the back of her mind, a quiet worry that the reminder might not be enough when the time came.

 

...

 

"Just breathe. Deep breaths, that's it," George murmured in her ear comfortingly.

 

Ginny did as he said, trying to make her breathing look natural, slowly releasing her death-like grip on his arm. They stepped into the Muggle London Public Library together, and George confidently led his sister to the public accessible computers.

 

"Oh, damn it, what if I do something wrong? Can these things explode?" Ginny asked in alarm as she sat in front of the overwhelming white screen.

 

"Only if you try **really** hard," he replied softly, chuckling.

 

Keeping her hands firmly in her lap anyway, Ginny looked up at George imploringly. "Don't leave me alone with this thing, will you?"

 

"Of course not," George said with a reassuring smile, pulling a chair beside her. "Now, do you remember how to switch it on?" he asked, referring to her basic class at Cloffice from the week before.

 

( _Ginny had come home ranting about how she just didn't understand what the damn box was meant to do, or how it could help her in the magical world. George had promised to show her more about the damn things if she'd just stop yelling, since even his bad ear was aching from her loud voice._ )

 

Nodding hesitantly, she looked for a box connected to this screen to find the on button. Unable to see one, Ginny looked at the back of the screen to see if there was a cord to follow to the other box. Spying the same symbol on a button that had been on the other computer at Cloffice, she pressed it hesitantly. Feeling pleased with herself when the screen flickered to life, Ginny looked at George, who was laughing behind a closed fist.

 

"George, what's so funny?" she hissed, glowering.

 

"I'm sure you've worked out that this isn't the same one you learnt on last week... Mind you, I spent half an hour looking for that button! Brings back memories," he said, grinning at her.

 

"Thanks," Ginny muttered, shaking her head at him.

 

George chuckled again, but went quiet when the screen appeared properly. Moving his chair closer, he gently instructed Ginny how to use the different programs, teaching her about the different functions of the computer and mouse ( _a single click won't open a file, you have to double-click, but don't double-click when you're on the Internet if you can help it_ ), what the different terms meant, and how to access the Internet. Ginny was quiet and attentive as he showed her everything, nodding here and there, asking a few questions when she didn't understand something.

 

Hours passed, but Ginny eventually felt that she'd learnt enough to get by. They left the library only to find the sun setting and the world getting dark.

 

"How do you feel about late night curry, Gin dearest?" George asked with a grin.

 

"After all that, I don't think I could stand to cook something. My eyes are killing me. How do these Muggles do it?" she groaned.

 

"With great patience and terrible addiction," George quipped. "Come on, there's a nice curry place around the corner here."

 

"Right, and how do you know that? You don't come into Muggle London that often, do you?" Ginny asked, frowning at him.

 

"It's owned by a friend; Fred and I used to take Pansy there on dates."

 

"Okay then."

 

"That's all you've got to say?" George asked incredulously.

 

"About what? I already knew about you and Fred, remember?" Ginny said, smirking slightly.

 

George's cheeks darkened slightly at the memory. _He and Fred had been in the middle of a rather intense snogging session and hadn't heard Ginny's knock at the door. She'd opened the door when neither one answered to find Fred and George wrapped around each other. Ginny had called out to them, finally gaining their attention. They'd pulled apart quickly, George going bright red and trying to stammer some sort of explanation (_ he'd tripped and landed on Fred, who'd tried to catch him, really that's all it was _), while Fred had just laughed at his awful attempt at lying. Ginny had rolled her eyes at them, told them that dinner was ready and to get presentable so their mother wouldn't freak out. Fred had chuckled, clapped George on the back, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and told him that they'd see him downstairs when he was ready_. There was a reason Ginevra was their favourite sister.

 

"Yeah, all right. Come on, let's get something to eat. You can stop embarrassing me then," George muttered, putting his arm around her shoulders.

 

"Ha, not likely, brother dearest," Ginny said with a grin, letting him lead her away.

 

...

 

End of the twenty-fourth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

"When you enter this room, you will be given a charge. You are to protect this person at all costs and complete the mission you are given."

 

The teacher stepped to the side, the door behind her opening to reveal nothing but darkness.

 

"Jordan, you first," she called.

 

Nodding, he stepped past her and through the door frame. The door shut with a solid thud that sent a shiver up Ginny's spine.

 

They stood there, each thinking of the horrors that Jordan might be facing inside the dark room. Fifteen minutes passed, and the door opened again, revealing nothing but the darkness; Jordan was nowhere in sight.

 

"Ginevra, your turn."

 

Taking a deep breath, Ginny stepped into the dark room. Her heart was beating so loudly that she didn't even hear the door close behind her.

 

"Your mission is to get across a Muggle town with your charge without getting injured. Good luck." The voice had no owner, had no sound of familiarity, and didn't expound on her mission any further.

 

From the corner of her eye, Ginny could see someone materialising beside her. Not the instant arrival of a body as with Apparating, but rather as if someone was drawing this person into life, each line a sketch of their figure, clothes, hair, eyes. All of it was over in a matter of seconds, and a small boy of about ten years was standing before her, scruffy brown hair and bright blue eyes looking up at her. Ginny moved forward to question him, but as she came close, a feeling overcame her. She immediately knew her mission and the details, just from being this close to the boy.

 

 _Jonathan Rackbone, aged 10, is the son of two wealthy Ministry employees. As he is not yet 11 years old, Jonathan has been placed in a Muggle school for his primary education. His parents have been taken to a safe house in the wizarding world as the mother has incriminating information about one of her colleagues. She will give only disclose the information when her son has been brought to the safe house. His location is already known to those who would harm, and they are closing in on you. You are unable to Apparate, as the safe house is Unplottable. Good luck_.

 

"Jonathan Rackbone? My name is Ginny, and I work with the Ministry. Your parents sent me to get you... We have to go now; your mother and father are waiting for you."

 

"No. I'm not going with you," he stated, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared up at her.

 

"You don't want to see your parents?" she asked, crouching beside him, her eyes scanning their surroundings quickly.

 

"Yes. But I'll wait for _them_ to pick me up," Jonathan said stubbornly.

 

"They can't at the moment, that's why they sent me."

 

"I bet they didn't. I bet you don't even know the secret password," he retorted.

 

"Penguins playing in puddles," Ginny said, before she even had to time to think about it.

 

Jonathan's eyes widened, his hands dropping to his sides. "Where are my mummy and daddy?" he asked, goosebumps covering his exposed arms.

 

"They're safe. And they want you to be safe too. You'll come with me now, Jonathan?" she asked, straightening and holding out her hand.

 

He nodded, looking terrified now, and took her hand in his own. A screech of tyres on the road sounded behind them, and Ginny looked over to see a black car pulling up to the school carpark. Before it had even truly stopped, three men were stepping out of the car, large weapons in their hands. Jonathan whimpered, his hand clutching Ginny's tightly.

 

"It's all right, Jonathan. Let's go this way. Quiet now," Ginny murmured, leading him to the staff carpark where her own car was waiting.

 

When Jonathan was bundled up in the car, his seatbelt tightened around his waist. In the driver's seat, Ginny turned on the ignition and drove out of the parking lot, her eyes glancing to the rear view mirror. The black car was still in the visitor's carpark, three doors wide open. It wouldn't take them long to find out that Jonathan had already been taken out of class. Pressing her foot to the gas pedal, Ginny increased her speed to move through the lanes.

 

"Do you like penguins, Jonathan?" she asked, trying to calm the boy who was close to tears.

 

"I like polar bears. Mummy likes penguins," he answered, brushing his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

"That's nice; what do you like about polar bears?"

 

A loud horn sounded behind them, Ginny looking in the mirror to see a black car with black tinted windows that had cut off a car abruptly.

 

"It's all right; keep talking to me about polar bears," Ginny said, flashing him a quick smile, her eyes returning to the road in front of them.

 

Jonathan clutched his seat belt tightly, but did as she asked, starting to list off why he liked the Arctic animals so much. Ginny did a few evasive manoeuvres to lose their tail, but it didn't work. The black car stayed behind them the entire time. Breaking suddenly, Ginny looked in her rear view mirror to see the car behind her swerve to avoid crashing into her, a domino effect causing the freeway to be blocked by cars, and the black car stuck behind it all.

 

There were only a few more blocks until they reached the barrier between the Muggle and wizarding worlds, and from there, Ginny should be able to get Jonathan to the safe house by taking him through the Ministry itself.

 

"They're really strong, and they eat seals," Jonathan said, yelping in fear when a car pulled out in front of them suddenly.

 

Swerving to the side, Ginny manoeuvred the steering wheel quickly so that she could drive around the oncoming car, flinching when shots were fired at them.

 

"Stay down low, Jonathan. It'll be fine. Everything will be fine," Ginny called, swinging the car back around onto the road properly.

 

Her foot pressed all the way down to the floor, Ginny drove towards the barrier even faster. There was no time to get out and walk through it physically, so they'd have to drive through. As it was a Muggle car, with Muggle machinery, it wouldn't survive the barrier. Her father's car had only survived the trip because it had been brought in through the proper channels (even if there was a loophole), and it was highly unlikely that there'd be anything left of this car by the time she made it through the barrier.

 

"Jonathan, I want you to take your seatbelt off," Ginny said, the barrier approaching and the car behind them gaining. He whimpered, shaking his head. "Listen to me, Jonathan. You need to be strong for me. Just like a polar bear, okay? Take your seatbelt off, can you do that?"

 

Jonathan slowly moved to undo his belt, his hands moving to clutch the seat beneath him.

 

"Okay, now when I say, you need to open your door and move back against the seat as hard as you can. Make yourself as flat as possible, okay?" Ginny glanced at him, hoping that she wasn't about to ask too much of the boy.

 

Pulling out her wand, Ginny held it tightly. The barrier was only a few metres away now, and she had to time this right, or it would be all for nothing.

 

"Now!"

 

Jonathan opened his door, pushing himself back against his seat and squeezing his eyes shut tightly. A spell had the door bursting off the hinges, flying back towards the car behind them. Ignoring the squeal of brakes, Ginny pressed harder on the accelerator, driving straight through the shimmering barrier. A spell on the pedal kept it down against the ground, and Ginny grabbed Jonathan's hand, Apparating them away. They appeared to the right, a few metres away, and they both watched the car as it seemed to dissolve before their eyes.

 

"Are you okay, Jonathan?" she asked, looking down at him.

 

His eyes wide and body trembling from the shock, he nodded briefly.

 

"That's great. Come on, let's go find your parents."

 

As they turned away, a screeching noise came from behind them, and the black car with a large dent on it's hood came through the barrier.

 

"Do you know how fast polar bears can run, Jonathan?" Ginny asked, hurrying to lead him away from the melting car.

 

"40 kilometres per hour," he answered shakily.

 

"Do you think you can run that fast?" she asked, glancing around them.

 

Jonathan shook his head. "No."

 

"That's okay, I probably can't either. But I can fly faster than that," Ginny added with a grin, spying a Quidditch store down the road. "Do you have your own broom yet?" she asked, hurrying to guide him towards the store.

 

"I'm supposed to be getting one for my eleventh birthday," Jonathan said.

 

"Want a free flying lesson now?"

 

As she let him inside the store, Ginny looked down the street to see three men in black making their way down the road, looking in each of the stores. She was slightly relieved that they hadn't seen them yet, and hoped they wouldn't reach the shop until she and Jonathan were long gone.

 

"I'd like to buy a Nimbus 3000, please," Ginny said to the salesperson, smiling quickly.

 

"For your son here? He seems a bit short for a 3000, may I recommend the new Cleansweep range? They've brought out a newer broom in order to compete with the Firebolt and Nimbus, but it's the same handle as the Sixty, which most..."

 

"I'll take the Nimbus 3000, and nothing less," she ground out, knowing that the new Cleansweep was marked at 50 Galleons more than the cheapest Firebolt and the salesperson just wanted a bigger commission.

 

"O-of course. I can wrap it up, if you'd like?"

 

"No, thank you. I'll just take the store demonstration broom. Charge it to my Gringotts account," Ginny added, handing a gold embellished scroll to him.

 

"Yes, ma'am," he hurried to say, entering her details in a large book with a Quick Copy Quill.

 

Ginny looked out of the door, seeing that the men were only a store away. "We need to use the back door," she added, going to where Jonathan was standing, eyes widened at the sight of the brand new brooms.

 

"We don't have a back door. There's the trial window upstairs though," he added quickly when Ginny pulled her wand out, intent on creating a door herself.

 

"Fine. Come on, Jonathan. Time for your first lesson," Ginny called, taking the broom from the salesperson and leading the young boy upstairs.

 

Jonathan looked somewhere between nervous, terrified, and ecstatic at the prospect of flying on a broom, and hurried up the stairs two by two.

 

"Up!" Ginny said, the broom jumping up into her hand. "Okay, on you get. I'll get on it right behind you, so no jumping out of the window by yourself, understood?"

 

Jonathan nodded, swinging his leg over the broom and holding on tightly. Moving to get on behind him, Ginny held on, took a deep breath and ran out of the window, tucking her feet up beneath her.

 

"Bring your feet up, you can't leave them hanging down like that," Ginny called to Jonathan, who had let out a yelp when they flew out of the window.

 

Slowly, he brought his legs up, and Ginny hooked her foot on the back of the broom, putting on an extra spurt of speed. Glancing to the ground below them, she saw the black-clad men calling to one another, running into the store. They were back outside a moment later, stolen brooms in their hands. Cursing softly, Ginny nudged the broom to go even faster. Jonathan, who had relaxed his hold on the broom, gave a cry and almost fell with the extra speed. Ginny's arms were on either side of him, which ensured he didn't fall, but he held the handle tightly again.

 

"Keep holding on, Jonathan," she called, holding a bit tighter too.

 

A spell flying past their heads had Ginny looking over her shoulder to see two of the men that had been following her. They must have gotten past the anti-theft spells on the brooms to have caught up to them so quickly, or perhaps the third man was purchasing them.

 

"Jonathan, I need you to do something for me. I need you to hold the broom as straight as you can, all right? It'll be fine," she added when he made a sound of fear. "I promise it'll be fine. Just hold it like you are now and don't move, okay?"

 

Jonathan whimpered, but held on tighter still and gave a brief nod. Slowly, Ginny released the handle. The broom dipped a little, and Jonathan hurried to hold it up again, almost tipping them backwards entirely. Ginny steadied it once more, told him that it was fine, and to try again. Another hex flew past her head, and Ginny waited a moment longer after she'd let go of the handle to ensure that Jonathan would be all right before turning back to hex at their pursuers.

 

It was difficult to hex someone while in mid-air, despite her training with Stella. Attempting to do this feat while on a broom that was being flown by a ten-year-old was something that they'd never covered in class. Ginny threw a few hexes in their general direction, one out of three disappearing in a flash of light when the people behind them destroyed the hex.

 

"You've done great, Jonathan. Now hold on tightly, I'm about to do something stupid," Ginny said, attempting to smile and reassure the boy.

 

By the look on his face, she doubted that it worked. Nonetheless, Jonathan held onto the handle even tighter than before. Her wand clutched in her hand, Ginny stopped the broom in mid-air, their pursuers flying ahead of them before they realised what had happened. Ginny managed to hex one and singe the other, then manoeuvred the broom straight down through the clouds. Jonathan let out a yell, but she wasn't sure if it was from fear, joy, or a combination of both.

 

Concentrating on their descent, Ginny almost sighed in relief when she saw the safe house appear below. A barrier surrounded the house, obscuring it from anyone who didn't have the clearance to see the house. As his parents were already inside, Jonathan should already have the necessary clearance as their child to see the house.

 

"Is that where my parents are?" Jonathan called.

 

A hex whizzed past by them, so close that it singed Ginny's hair. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that the uninjured man was following them again.

 

"Yes, they'll be inside already. We're almost there; hold tight," Ginny called back, pulling the handle up abruptly to go back into the clouds.

 

It was wet, and they weren't wearing any protective clothes to ward off the atmospheric conditions. Silently, Ginny cast a warming spell on Jonathan's clothes, hoping it would be enough for now. She heard a barrage of hexes let loose, and held Jonathan a bit tighter. There were no flashes of red or green to be seen, and Ginny concluded that the man had no idea where they were and was simply sending hexes in random directions. She didn't know of a spell that could clear the clouds beneath them without revealing their own presence, so Ginny waited until she heard another lot of spells before descending slowly. It was a lucky hex, nothing more, but she managed to hit their pursuer, shielding Jonathan's eyes as the man fell from his broom to the rocky ground below.

 

"We're going down to the house now, okay Jonathan? Just keep holding on to the broom, and you'll be with your parents soon," Ginny called.

 

She cast another warming spell on the boy, seeing the blue colour of his fingers. When she was certain that he wasn't going to die of hypothermia, Ginny shot out of the clouds and flew straight for the house, flying as fast as she possibly could. Pulling up sharply once they were inside the barrier, Ginny still ensured to land carefully and without jolting the poor kid off the handle completely. His legs wobbled a bit when he got off the broom, but Jonathan looked fairly pleased that he'd survived his first flying lesson.

 

The doors to the house burst open, light pouring into the darkness. Ginny moved Jonathan  slightly so he was shielded directly behind her, not knowing who was coming out of the house. Despite it being a safe house provided by the Centaur Liaison Office, it didn't mean that it couldn't have been compromised by the enemy.

 

"Jonathan?" a female voice called out, concern etched in the tone.

 

Ginny held Jonathan securely behind her, unable to see the woman in the bright light reflected from inside the house.

 

"What's the code?" she called to the woman, watching carefully as she left the doorway and started down the path towards them.

 

"Jumping jackals jest and jeer," the woman replied, moving to the side so that Ginny could finally see her face.

 

 _Well, she looked like Mrs. Rackbone_ , Ginny thought to herself.

 

 _Please, that doesn't mean a thing. Polyjuice Potion, Glamours, heck, even a simple application of Muggle make-up can disguise a person. Always check with a spell first, even if it's your own mother_ , the voice in her head muttered, if not a little indignantly, as if she shouldn't have needed to be reminded of the fact.

 

"If you'll just stand there a moment, I'd just like to verify that you are who you say you are," Ginny said with a brief smile, her wand slipping into her hand.

 

 _Was it just her imagination, or did Mrs. Rackbone suddenly look very tense_?

 

Performing the incantation and flicking her wand, Ginny watched as Mrs. Rackbone was hit by her spell, one to reveal if there were any spells or curses on her. As there was no sign of the telltale purple haze around Mrs. Rackbone's figure to reveal any such spells or curses, Ginny moved aside for Jonathan to go to her. He ran forward immediately, Mrs. Rackbone dropping to her knees to hug her son tightly.

 

"Thank you; thank you so much for bringing him back to me."

 

"Mrs. Rackbone? Where is Mr. Rackbone?" Ginny asked suddenly, realising that her husband was nowhere in sight, yet their son had been standing outside of the house for the last five minutes or so.

 

"He's inside being held hostage," she replied.

 

Even as Ginny went to step forward, her wand drawn, the woman and boy before her began to shimmer, as if they were losing their solidity, falling prey to the atmosphere and evaporating entirely. The house disappeared, and just as Ginny was about to reach Mrs. Rackbone and Jonathan, everything that had been in her vision disappeared completely. She was standing in a dark room with her wand drawn, and seemed to be alone. Blinking a few times at the sudden change, Ginny turned around once to ensure that she wasn't seeing things.

 

"Congratulations on successfully completing your mission. You arrived at the safe house without harming the boy." Again, the disembodied voice held no familiarity, but Ginny didn't care about who it belonged to.

 

"What about Mr. Rackbone inside the house? He was being held captive, what about him?" she called, demanding retribution.

 

"He was not your charge, nor was his release part of your mission. You succeeded. Please leave the room now," the voice replied, utterly disinterested in her plight.

 

A door opened on the far side of the room, light spilling into the darkness, and Ginny walked to it warily. Her mind was still full of enemies and villains, of innocent people being held hostage, even as their son was being raced across town to reach them. She stepped out of the room, her wand held in her hand but not drawn, only to be faced with someone she didn't expect.

 

"How did you go?" Neville asked, grinning at her.

 

"Neville? What are you doing here?"

 

"I came to visit Dennis, and I heard that you were doing your test, so I thought I'd see how you went. Come on, I'll take you to dinner and you can tell me all about it," he said, offering her his arm with a grin.

 

Still surprised at his presence, Ginny accepted his arm and let him lead her away.

 

...

 

"Welcome, welcome. Come in!" Marco said, smiling at them brightly as Ginny and Neville entered _The Horse's Hooves_ restaurant.

 

Neville gave him a nod, Ginny smiling at Marco in return, heading over to the same booth they'd occupied last time. Neville was silent as they sat down, a spell ensuring that the silencing spell he and Dennis had used last time was still up. When he was satisfied that it was, Neville took up a menu to peruse the meals on offer. Marco waved a waitress over to take their order, heading to the kitchen to ensure that the chef was ready.

 

"So how was your test?" Neville asked once the waitress had left. "What scenario did you have?"

 

"Uh... A boy who needed to be taken across town, into the wizarding world, and to a safe house where his parents were waiting. We were followed by a group of men in black robes," Ginny replied, thinking over the test again.

 

"His parents were being held hostage, right?" Neville asked, grinning slightly at her expression before continuing, "The group that I had involved a number of scenarios, all relating to the Rackbones. We pieced it all together, from the boy's original kidnapping - someone had to get him into the Muggle world without detection, we figure they were the ones actually kidnapping him without knowing it; the next part was the one that you did, getting him from the Muggle world back into the wizarding one; and from there, the next recruit had to deal with a man taken hostage and a wife and child in the house with them; the final recruit had to deal with a dead body, whether the husband or their attacker, it depended on the third recruit."

 

"So you went through it more than once?" Ginny asked, surprised at the differing accounts of the final recruit's test.

 

"No, just the one time. We _were_ allowed to talk with others in Cloffice about the tests, you know. Still can, so far as I know," Neville said with a grin.

 

"And who would you suggest I talk to about it?"

 

"Oh, I don't know... Maybe one Messr. Malfoy or Zabini?" he suggested.

 

"Just what do you have to say about them, Neville?" Ginny asked curiously.

 

"What makes you think I have anything to say about them?"

 

Ginny glowered at him, her arms folded over her chest. The waitress appeared with their order, setting the plates and glasses in front of them and leaving after they'd thanked her.

 

"You'd better tell me what you know, Longbottom, or I'm going to make you pay for dinner," Ginny muttered.

 

"I was planning on paying anyway, but I'll still tell you since you asked _ever_ so nicely."

 

There was silence for a few moments as Neville swallowed his food and took a sip of his drink.

 

"Well?" Ginny asked when he didn't elaborate.

 

"All in good time. Eat first, then I'll talk," Neville said, gesturing to her plate.

 

Realising that he wasn't going to say anything while he was eating, Ginny sighed and continued to eat her own dinner.

 

"Malfoy and Zabini are well known in Cloffice. They're two of the top recruits, and as they're friends with the Director herself, everyone wants to be their friend. Of course, those two are too smart for that sort of crap and rarely let anyone close. In fact, word on the grapevine is that they've been sitting at your table more often than not," Neville commented, glancing at her for a reaction.

 

"Really? The grapevine's obviously blown that out of proportion," Ginny replied easily, shaking her head with a grin.

 

Inside her head, however, she was the equivalent of a headless chicken running about. _Have to contact Draco and Blaise to tell them to back off for a couple of weeks. Maybe a few days might be enough to stop the gossip? They all should have known better than to sit together so many days in a row. People were bound to notice, people were bound to talk, and if the wrong people were listening, it could have very bad consequences for all of them_.

 

"Calm down, Gin. I'm not going to repeat anything you say. Or don't say," Neville added, patting her hand gently.

 

"I am calm," she lied with a smile. "I know you won't repeat anything. But there's nothing to repeat, as there's nothing to say anyway."

 

"If that's true, then I'll just go call Dennis to take Draco and Blaise back, shall I?"

 

"Pardon?" Ginny asked, confused.

 

"I asked Dennis to invite Draco and Blaise to dinner here. I thought you'd might like some time with them outside of Cloffice. It took four months before George could introduce me to Dennis publicly. That time was my own version of hell," Neville admitted with a wry grin.

 

"How does Dennis know Draco and Blaise?" Ginny asked, betraying her lies in an instant.

 

Neville chuckled slightly. "You've seen Dennis, Gin. No one would question him if they saw him with Draco and Blaise. Most people would just assume that he was working for them in the underground wizarding community, and Dennis was reporting back to them."

 

"You sound so proud," she said, grinning back at him.

 

"Of course I am. He's gorgeous, deadly, and all mine," Neville said, toasting his goblet to her with a chuckle.

 

Ginny shook her head gently, surprised that she wasn't surprised at Neville's admission. He'd come a long way from his fumbling in their first years at Hogwarts. But then, she supposed that she had too. Grinning, she returned the toast and sipped her drink.

 

"Ah, there he is," Neville said, slipping out of the booth to go to where Dennis had entered the restaurant with Draco and Blaise.

 

They exchanged a few greetings, Neville kissing Dennis before leading them back to the booth. Apart from the greetings, they were silent as they walked over, and it was only once they were seated that Draco and Blaise acknowledged Ginny's presence with a perfunctory greeting.

 

"We've already spelled the booth. No one will hear a thing," Dennis said quietly, checking his previous spell anyway.

 

"Can you put up a basic illusion spell for a few minutes? I want to snog Ginevra senseless," Draco said, chuckling when her eyes widened slightly in surprise.

 

"Might be a bit difficult to do that over the table. You might want to swap seats with us," Neville replied, doing the basic illusion spell.

 

There was a bit of noise from the four men as they slipped under the table, Blaise actually standing and stepping onto the table, laughter from Ginny as they managed to rearrange their seating positions in a matter of seconds. Draco and Blaise were now seated on either side of her, while Neville and Dennis were sitting next to each other across from them.

 

"Better now?" Ginny asked, her laughter settling.

 

"Almost," Draco replied, his hand cupping her face as he kissed her.

 

She clung to his robes, kissing him back eagerly, a thrill running through her that they were actually out in public and they were kissing and it didn't matter who saw them together.

 

 _Don't get ahead of yourself there; there's still an illusion spell up. You can't snog them outside of this booth. Well, not yet, at least. Maybe give it another few of these dates, and try a different restaurant. Very few people in the wizarding world come in here because of the dark rumours surrounding it. Which is probably one of the reasons that you're able to do those spells without anyone really noticing or caring. You couldn't imagine getting away with doing a illusion spell at_ The Turtle's Shell _, could you_?

 

 _Shut up, would you?! I'm enjoying this kiss_.

 

 _So am I, but that doesn't excuse you from turning into an air-headed bimbo. This is as public as kissing someone behind the broom shed, just remember that_.

 

 _All right, I will. If you're enjoying it, as you said you were, then just shut up and enjoy it. I'll be practical again in a minute_.

 

There was silence, and Ginny's lips curved into a grin as she kissed Draco a little harder.

 

"Not that I don't mind the view, but I'd like to be killed by kissing too, you know," Blaise said, smirking when they pulled away with swollen lips.

 

Ginny licked her lips, still grinning, even though Draco looked a little dazed and entirely smug. Blaise kissed her fiercely, his hands hot against her hips. A ticking noise started, and Ginny reluctantly pulled away from Blaise to see a clock sitting in the middle of the table, counting down rather than up.

 

"What on earth is that?"

 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were attempting for a personal best," Neville said, smirking when Ginny reddened slightly. "I'm pulling your leg, Gin. But you did look like you were a heartbeat away from needing a bedroom... The clock's counting down how long the illusion will stay up. By all means, keep snogging them to death. Just stop when you hear the alarm," he said, waving at her to continue.

 

"Fine by me," Ginny said, returning her lips to Blaise's. She thread her fingers between Draco's, tugging him to her. He smirked, his lips moving to her neck.

 

"Think we'll need to _Aquamenti_ them?" Neville asked Dennis with a grin, who just chuckled in response.

 

A loud beeping noise sounded, and Ginny pulled away from Draco and Blaise, feeling a little light-headed and grinning sillily.

 

 _Air-headed bimbo_.

 

 _Shut up, it's worth it_.

 

 _Oh, trust me. I would_ ** _never_** _argue with you on that_ , the reply came, laughter accompanying the words.

 

The clock disappeared in a small cloud of smoke, the illusion disappearing as they waved the smoke away.

 

"Right, now where we? Oh, yes... You two were going to tell me how you know Dennis outside of Cloffice," Ginny said, looking at them pointedly.

 

"He's our contact in the wizarding underground," Blaise said, shrugging.

 

"You mean you really are part of the underground?" she asked Dennis in surprise.

 

"There are some bonuses to looking the way I do; the main one is that sometimes people assume you're worse than you are, and will tell you anything just so you don't meet those assumptions," he replied with a grin.

 

"Assumptions, my arse," Draco muttered. "Do you remember what you did to that wizard who tried to kill Neville by sending a poisonous and carnivorous plant to him in the post?"

 

"He deserved what I did to him," Dennis replied, shrugging indifferently.

 

"They _still_ can't find all of the pieces," Draco said, but he was grinning, so it didn't look like he really disagreed with Dennis' methods.

 

"They're lucky that they found any in the first place," he muttered.

 

Neville was making some sort of hand motion at Draco and over Ginny, Blaise whacked his boyfriend on the head.

 

"You keep talking, Dennis is going to go hunt the rest of the bastard's family for trying to hurt Neville," Blaise hissed.

 

Ginny was going to laugh at his joke, but the look of relief on Neville's face made her realise that they weren't joking at all. Glancing at Dennis, and seeing his expression, Ginny didn't doubt that he would have done everything that people assumed of him. He'd probably gone to that wizard in the middle of the night, gaining entrance into the man's residence easily enough, pulling him out of his bed to kill him, blood staining the floor, and he'd Apparated them away, purposely ensuring that they would or wouldn't be found, whatever he so desired.

 

 _Assassin_ , a whisper came from the back of her mind. _Person retrieval. Transporter... Snare_.

 

"Snare?" she echoed quietly, but they all heard her and went still immediately.

 

Dennis looked at her, his grip tight on his wand. "What did you say, Ginevra?"

 

"Snare... That's you, isn't it?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide as she looked between the four men sitting with her. "Your call sign for Cloffice is Snare," she stated, knowing it to be true even without their confirming silence.

 

Ginny looked at Neville again, more whispers coming from the far back of her mind. _Poisons. Protection. Recruitment... Herbologist_. "You're the Herbologist."

 

She didn't want to look at Blaise and Draco, not sure that she wanted to hear the whispers that would come on seeing their faces, but at the same time, Ginny knew that it would be impossible for her not to look at them, to not know who they really were.

 

Draco. _Assassin. Information retrieval. Transporter... Snow_.

 

Blaise. _Assassin. Information retrieval. Transporter... Storm_.

 

"I... I-I've got to go," Ginny said, trying to get out of the booth without much success, blocked in by Blaise as she was.

 

They were still silent, and Blaise slid out of the booth without a word. Ginny scrambled to get out of the booth, leaving without a word of farewell. The door hadn't even closed behind her completely when she Disapparated.

 

"Gin, that you?" George called from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a tea towel as he left to greet her. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing her pale complexion and wide eyes.

 

 _Assassin. Information retrieval. Recruitment. Transporter. Protection... Holey Forge_.

 

"Holey Forge," Ginny whispered, her brother's face swimming before her.

 

She turned away, her stomach churning even as George stepped forward carefully. The mirror reflected her own face back at her, and unbidden, another series of whispers came.

 

 _Assassin. Information retrieval. Information interpreter. Transporter... Red Fox_.

 

Her face multiplied in the mirror, her vision getting dark, and Ginny swayed on her feet. George leapt forward as Ginny swayed precariously, catching her before she hit the floor. He was silent as he carried her to her room, placing her on the bed gently and tucking her in after doing a spell to take her shoes off. With that done, George left the room, closing the door behind him and heading to the lounge room to make a series of very damn urgent firecalls.

...

 

End of the twenty-fifth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	26. Chapter 26

Ginny woke up, her eyes unfocused for a moment, but they finally came to land on the familiar small table beside her bed, and the lamp above it. Her hand knocked over an empty goblet as she tried to find her watch on the table, and Ginny blinked a couple of times on seeing the time. It was almost five o'clock. _Shit! She was almost going to be late for Cloffice_.

Scrambling out of her bed, Ginny almost tripped over the fallen goblet, cursing her pain and throbbing toe instead. Deciding to forgo a shower that morning, she managed to do a few spells that had her body feeling cleaner than a few moments ago, and her clothes pressed and tidied. Slipping on her shoes, Ginny hopped over to her door, tying up a shoelace along the way.

"George, are you awake?" Ginny called out her door, frowning when she didn't receive an answer. "George?"

Again, there was no answer, and she finally retied her shoelace properly, hurrying down the corridor to find her brother. Stopping suddenly on seeing George asleep in the lounge room armchair, Ginny winced, hoping that she hadn't woken him. George mumbled something, rolled over and continued to sleep. Deciding that she could be late after all, Ginny gently levitated George down to his room, tucking him into his bed carefully. He didn't wake up, and she left his room quietly, heading back to the lounge room to Floo to her office at _The Quibbler_ , continuing on to Cloffice's Training Centre Three.

...

"Ginevra Weasley?" Lin called from the door.

Ginny looked over to the Cloffice receptionist in surprise, stopping her monologue in Russian after receiving a nod from the teacher.

"The Director has asked to see you. Come with me, please," Lin said, holding the door open.

Still somewhat surprised at the request, Ginny nodded and followed Lin out of the room quickly. She knew Russian, the words halted and rusty, but she still _knew_ the words themselves, she knew the pronunciation and how to enunciate the syllables in the right ways. Ginny still had no idea how she knew any of this, but she'd decided not to look a gift-horse in the mouth and planned on taking it all just one day at a time.

"I was told you wanted to see me?" Ginny asked, knocking at Pansy's door.

"Yes, please come in and sit down," Pansy said, indicating to the chair across from her desk.

Ginny closed the door behind her before walking over and sitting down, waiting patiently for Pansy to continue talking.

"I received a very disturbing call from George last night, and I was hoping you could enlighten me as to the situation," Pansy said, scrutinising her, as if her face alone held all of the answers.

Frowning slightly, Ginny tried to remember what had happened the night before. She'd had dinner with Neville, Dennis, Draco and Blaise after her test with the Rackbones... _And then what_? Ginny vaguely remembered leaving the restaurant in a hurry, but couldn't seem to remember why she had to leave so quickly, nor why her heart started racing the moment she tried to remember any more than that.

"I... I have no idea, sorry. I can't seem to remember much about last night, in fact. What was George's call about? That might help jog my memory," Ginny added with a slight grin, trying not to let her confusion and worry show.

"If you're not aware of the reason he called, then I don't think there's anything to worry about," Pansy said, smiling slightly. "And as there's nothing to worry about, I don't want you to stress about it. I'll call George back and talk with him some more. I apologise for interrupting your class," she added, a dismissal in her tone.

"It's all right. If there is something wrong, you'll tell me, won't you, Pansy?" Ginny asked, silently hoping that she wouldn't get into trouble for addressing the Director so informally.

"Of course. But in this case, I can assure you that there is nothing wrong, and you have nothing to worry about."

"All right... Thank you," Ginny said, not entirely believing her, but not knowing how to approach the topic of her own disbelief without insulting Pansy.

She left her office without another word, closing the door behind her once more. Ginny was surprised to realise that she hadn't heard a word from her subconscious all morning; she would have thought that the little voice in her head would have gone crazy during that conversation, cryptic sentences stringing her along the entire way. But instead, there had been nothing but complete silence, and Ginny was even more surprised to realise how much she relied on that little voice to keep her sane. No matter _how_ contradictory that sounded.

Returning to the language classroom - the only class for the rest of the time that she would be spending at this Training Centre - Ginny sat at her desk once more, listening to Morgan and Jordan's brief conversation in Russian at the front of the class.

After these language classes - one language for every day of the week for the next two weeks - there was only the final Training Centre to complete, and then Ginny would complete her Cloffice training. The classes in Training Centre Four were a complete mystery, even though the rumours that abounded were even more outlandish than the ones about the seduction class.

Once her training was completed, Ginny knew that she would be put on probation for three months before being placed out in the field in whichever job she was given. The instructors at Cloffice wrote individual reports on the recruits which were then collated, Pansy herself reading over every report in order to determine the best job for each and every recruit.

The cafeteria seemed to explode with rumours and half-truths, from people getting jobs as official cover story creators (it wasn't too much of a stretch to believe this one; after all, it had already been explained that people were employed to do their actual jobs as they trained, and someone out there was writing articles under Ginny's name) to others working in the various Ministries around the world as spies, and whispered conversations of real life assassins who could kill someone without even looking at them. As she listened to the conversations around her, Ginny thought of her dreams, and couldn't bring herself to doubt any of the other recruits' observations and theories about just what they were training for.

...

"She doesn't seem to remember a thing, George. I don't know how, but it seems that whatever happened between the memory you showed me of Ginevra last night and seeing her in my office ten minutes ago has been completely repressed. Whatever is resisting her return is doing it in such a way that astounds even me," Pansy said, sighing heavily.

George was silent for a moment, looking at her through the flames. "I wish I knew, Pansy. It was... it was outright scary seeing her like that last night," he admitted.

  
There was a knock on Pansy's door, and she put George on hold, yellow flames obscuring his face from being seen as well as him seeing into her office for the time being. A wand movement and thought spell had her door opening, and Lin looked inside.

"Dennis Creevey is here to see you, ma'am," she informed her.

"Thank you, Lin. Give me five minutes and send him in, I'm just finishing a firecall," Pansy said.

"Yes, ma'am," Lin said with a nod, closing the door again.

When she was sure that the door was closed securely, Pansy returned to the fireplace once more and took George off hold.

"Everything all right?" George asked with a slight grin.

"I hope so. I'll see you tonight on our date, okay?" she asked, giving him a quick smile.

"All right, see you then."

George closed the grate, the firecall disconnecting and Pansy's face disappearing. Sighing, he stared at the flames for a moment before standing and returning to the shop.

...

Ginny smiled, moving to sit down across from Gabrielle, her sister-in-law taking her hand once she was seated.

"Just one moment, Ginny. I think someone followed you in here," Gabrielle said, her smile kept firmly in place.

"What? Who?" she asked, her eyes wide.

Ginny tried to calm her racing heart, feeling so utterly _stupid_ that she hadn't even thought to check if she was being followed. She had no idea what had happened to that man that had followed her and George to the cemetery all of those weeks ago - _or was it months now? Oh, gods, time had gone by so quickly that she'd completely forgotten about a man who had essentially_ ** _stalked_** _her! Well, maybe he hadn't forgotten her quite so easily. But why here? Why now_?

Gabrielle realised that her sister-in-law hadn't realised that she'd meant the words playfully, and hurried to reassure Ginny that everything was all right. "It is just Draco and Blaise. Sorry, Ginny, I didn't mean to scare you," she added, looking slightly ashamed now.

"It's all right. I just overreacted. Sorry, Gabby," Ginny said, giving her a quick smile.

"Gabby? It has been a while since you have called me that," Gabrielle commented in surprise.

"It ... it has? When did I used to call you that?" she asked, frowning briefly.

"Oh, uh..."

"Gabrielle, it's been a while," Draco said, sitting across from her with a smirk.

"Far too long, cousin," she replied, smiling at him.

"Distant cousins; don't worry, you're not that closely related to Draco," Blaise added, grinning at Ginny.

"I know my family tree, extended or otherwise, but thanks for the reassurance," she replied, grinning back at him.

"Really?" Draco asked curiously, his fingers steeped as he looked at her. "How far does your wizarding family tree go back then?"

"Purist," Gabrielle muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Eight generations, but a possible ninth if the stories are to be believed," Ginny replied.

"Oh, do tell," Blaise said, smirking.

"It was nothing of importance," she replied, waving off their intrigued looks. "Are you going to help with my French too?" Ginny asked, grinning at them.

"You need help with it, _mon cher_?" Draco asked. (My dear. _French_.)

"Actually, I do need help with Russian more than French. Gabby's been helping with my French."

"Great, you get one of the languages of romance, and we get Russian," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes.

"What's wrong with Russian?" Blaise asked, smirking at him. "Or are you still upset about the vodka, _Superhero_?"

"Shove off," he said, glowering.

Blaise snickered, then turned his attention back to Ginny and Gabrielle. "Never mind him, it's still a sore spot."

"If you want me to bring up Italy, then you just keep on talking, Zabini," Draco threatened.

"You wouldn't dare to bring up Italy. Besides, if you did, then I'd just have to start talking about Saint-Tropez."

"Perhaps we should leave the two men to their games; what do you say, Ginny?" Gabrielle asked with a slight grin.

"Oh, I think you're absolutely right. There's a sale at _Flourish and Blotts_ , and I need some new parchment," Ginny said, moving to stand up and leave.

Draco and Blaise both grabbed her arms, gently pulling her back down onto the seat between them.

"You're staying, love, whether you like it or not," Draco muttered.

"Really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

"Yes. We'll stop playing games now," Blaise added.

Gabrielle just laughed, knowing her cousin and his lover far too well to believe his words. Ginny shook her head, smiling, while Blaise and Draco pretended to be offended. Then Draco smirked a bit, and the game was finally over. Blaise organised to meet Ginny later in the week, promising to help her with her Russian (Draco agreed to help too, however reluctantly), and then prompted the conversation along, ignoring the knowing smile Gabrielle gave him.

...

George seemed to be stepping on eggshells when Ginny got home, and his odd behaviour had her wondering exactly what had happened the night before to make him treat her so aloofly. She went to her room soon after arriving to the apartment, not liking the way that George seemed to be watching her so intently, as if he was waiting for something to happen. With her door closed, Ginny sat on her bed, trying to clear her mind and remember just what had gone on the night before.

 _If everyone seems to be that worried about what did happen, are you really sure you should be trying so hard to remember_?

So far, Ginny had only seen George and Pansy worried about ... whatever this was, so what on earth did the little voice mean by 'everyone'?

 _You really think that Draco and Blaise turned up this afternoon when you were meeting with Gabrielle for no real reason? They still haven't been introduced to you properly, yet they came to your little get together without so much as getting Gabby to introduce them to you_.

 _I_... Ginny faltered for a moment, realising that the little voice was right. _I thought they might have come to see me_ , she said, feeling naive and _stupid_.

 _I'm sure they did. But first and foremost, they came to see if you were all right after last night_.

Ginny narrowed her eyes suspiciously. _So_ ** _you_** _know what happened then_?

There was a long moment of silence, and Ginny thought the little voice wouldn't answer her at all. _Of course I do. I'm your subconscious, remember? I know things that you've long forgotten about_.

 _I'm presuming that you're not just going to tell me what happened_? Ginny asked with a sigh.

 _You presume correctly. Remember on your own. If you can_ , her subconscious dared, and Ginny was sure that the voice was actually smirking.

Muttering about what a waste of time that argument was, Ginny concentrated on trying to clear her mind once more so she could remember everything on her own.

...

George frowned when he realised that Ginevra hadn't answered his question about dinner. Figuring that she might not have heard him - or more likely, he hadn't heard her response - he headed down to her room, knocking on her door. Again, there was no answer, and he opened the door cautiously, fearing the worst.

Blinking in surprise at the sight that met him, George swung the door open completely and looked at the various photos that were spread across Ginevra's room. Some of them looked like they'd been thrown across the room, a haphazard circle around the bed, photo albums stacked in awkward piles on the mattress. Glancing down at some of the photos, George noticed that there was writing on the back of the pictures. He picked up a handful, flicking through them quickly.

 _Red Fox. Skeleton. Herbologist. France, December 1998_.

 _Red Fox. Herbologist. Snare. France, April 1998_.

 _Red Fox. Storm. Snow. Russia, January 1998_.

 _Red Fox. Holey Forge. Egypt, October 1998_.

The ink was still wet, and he spied a quill and ink bottle sitting on the windowsill by the bed. George sighed, flicking his wand to tidy up the mess of pain and memories, and left Ginevra's room once more. He didn't doubt that she'd remembered everything again, but this time he knew that she wouldn't let herself forget. George wondered if Ginevra would ever forgive him for the things he'd done.

...

Molly opened the kitchen door, surprised beyond belief to see her youngest child standing there, looking as if her entire world had been turned upside down and shaken severely.

"Ginny dear, what's wrong?" she asked, immediately guiding Ginny inside and hugging her.

"I... I'd just like to stay here for a few days, if you don't mind, Mum? I need some time to sort things out," Ginny murmured.

"Of course I don't mind; stay as long as you like, dear. Why don't you go upstairs and get settled in, and I'll bring you up a nice hot cup of tea?" Molly offered with a warm smile.

Ginny had been somewhat cool towards her since the 'letters to the Minister' incident, but Molly knew that she deserved it, and was thoroughly ashamed of herself for the things she'd done and written. Arthur had been the one to drive home just how true Ginny's words had been, and Molly had spent a whole week on a transfigured sofa bed downstairs, too upset to face Arthur after what she'd almost done to her family.

"Thanks, Mum," Ginny said quietly, going upstairs without protest.

Molly's smile slipped as she watched after her daughter, a fierce sense of déjà vu overcoming her for a moment, the same look of helplessness and world weariness on Ginny's face as she trudged her way upstairs... _But that was silly, of course. Ginny had never looked like this before_ , Molly thought, promptly turning towards the kitchen to make both of them a cup of tea.

In her room, Ginny curled up on her old bed, and pulled the few photographs that she'd brought with her out of her robe. She'd chosen five photographs for specific reasons - one with her, Draco and Blaise from a place she was sure she'd never been before; the second with her and Neville, covered in brightly coloured paint and broad grins; a third of her and George, both of them holding Muggle guns and their shooting records proudly; a fourth with her, Gabrielle, and Pansy, sitting outside of a restaurant and laughing together; and the fifth was a photo of two people - one that she immediately recognised as herself, but at the same time, Ginny knew that it definitely _wasn't_ her. The man in the picture was one she only recognised from her dreams (but perhaps they were nightmares instead), and on seeing his face in the photograph, Ginny knew that her dreams and nightmares were so much more than that. Jacques was a real person, and by the way he had his arms around the woman in the photograph, Ginny knew that Amelie was far too real as well.

A knock at the door reminded her that Molly was coming up with a cup of tea, and Ginny slipped the photographs under her bed carefully before going to open the door. Molly smiled at her, handing her the offered cup of tea, adding that she was more than happy to listen if Ginny needed to talk. Ginny thanked her mother once more, said that she was fine and just needed to sort her head out, and that she appreciated the offer and tea. Molly gave an understanding nod and finally left her alone.

Once Molly had left, Ginny Apparated to _Flourish and Blotts_ , purchasing a refilling Quick Notes Quill and the longest scroll of parchment they had in stock. They cost her three Galleons, but she figured that the price would be worth the end result. Disapparating back to the Burrow, she cast a silencing spell and locked her door for extra measure. Settling down onto her bed, Ginny flicked her wand to activate the Quick Notes Quill and began talking.

She detailed every single dream she'd had, even the sordid ones involving Draco and Blaise, described every nightmare, every sense of déjà vu, and every suspicion she'd had since starting at Cloffice. Ginny used both sides of the parchment and found another few inches of scrap parchment that were filled soon enough with her collage of memories - whether real or not - making them into some twisted list of everything she knew and thought she knew. It was a tiring process, the words spilling from her at times, while other times they felt as though they were wrenched from the deepest parts of her mind. A lot of the time, Ginny could almost imagine that something was in the back of her mind, telling her just what an awful idea this was, that she would regret it, and why wouldn't she just let sleeping dragons lie? She ignored the sense and continued, determined to remember.

With the filled scraps of parchment surrounding her, Ginny fell into an exhausted and dreamless sleep. The Quick Notes Quill, which hadn't been unactivated, continued to transcribe the words that she mumbled throughout the night on the nearest surface: Ginny's skin.

 

...

End of the twenty-sixth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	27. Chapter 27

Ginny stared at herself, her image distorted in the crevices of the mirrored door. Her face looked like something out of a Picasso painting, and she reached up to touch her face and reassure herself that she didn't truly look like that. Fingers brushed against skin, multitudes of digits showing in the door's reflection. Relieved when she felt her usual cheeks, lips, nose and eyes, Ginny turned her gaze to the door itself rather than her grotesque reflection.

The door was locked with a padlock, a thick chain wrapped around the handle, criss-crossing over the entire door itself. She stepped forward to open the door, knowing that her suppressed memories were locked inside.

"Wait!"

The voice was urgent, but one that was far too familiar, and Ginny turned to see a copy of herself standing to the side of the door. The other her stepped forward, and in a glance, Ginny realised that this other person wasn't her, per se, but rather her old self. This was _Ginevra_.

"You can't go in there," Ginevra said, moving to stand before the door.

A sword appeared in her hands and she pointed it at Ginny, looking far too serious about her job to guard the door and the memories that were contained within.

"Why not? They're **my** memories!" Ginny said.

"They weren't _your_ memories. They're _my_ memories, and it's staying that way," Ginevra replied, lifting the sword and swinging down.

Metal clashed with metal, Ginny now holding a sword up to protect herself.

"I defeat you, I get _my_ memories. Deal?" she asked, hoping that this other her was a rational person, and had her unfailing inability to resist a dare.

Ginevra didn't seem too happy, nor too surprised about her deal, but gave a brief nod.

"I defeat you, you _never_ come here again. I refuse to continuously fight you!" She pushed Ginny back and stepped forward, her sword already slicing downwards.

"You mean I've been here before?" Ginny asked in surprise, blocking the sword and returning with a slash of her own.

"Why do you think the padlock and chain are there? Now shut up and concentrate," Ginevra growled, parrying her move.

Ginny nodded and deflected the sword from the side, moving to attack Ginevra in a series of slashes and hacks. They were tiring to perform, but due to the strength behind the move, they were also tiring to block. She just hoped that Ginevra would tire out sooner than she did.

The battle between them continued for what could have been hours. They both fought and defended, attacked and blocked, slashed and parried, and for the longest time it seemed that they were on an equal footing and neither would win.

"Do Storm and Snow make you have to work harder to concentrate too?" Ginny asked, grinning slightly.

"What?" Ginevra asked, startled at the sudden question as well as the topic.

"Draco and Blaise. You think of them and it gets that much harder to concentrate, doesn't it?"

"Of course; what affects you also affects me in the same way. Which is why neither of us will win, again," Ginevra muttered.

"See, now that's where you're wrong," Ginny said, stepping back suddenly.

Ginevra's sword swung down a second too late, and she couldn't stop the motion. The blade struck against the ground and fell out of her grasp. The sound reverberated around them, and Ginny held her sword to Ginevra's throat.

"But... No one's ever won before," Ginevra said in confusion, looking between the fallen sword and Ginny.

"Well, this time I did win. And nothing you can say will stop me from going inside of that door," Ginny added firmly, glancing behind her to see the padlock and chains disintegrating loudly.

"Please, Ginny. Don't do this. You've been resisting these memories for all of this time! If you go in there now and get bombarded with them all at once... It could break your mind," Ginevra said, trying to take a hold of her wrist.

Pulling her wrist away, Ginny shook her head. "If you were me, standing here, would you listen to you?"

"You've been listening to me for the past six months, why won't you now?"

Ginny blinked in surprise. "You mean... You're the voice in my head, my subconscious?"

"Yes, I am. Now please, I'm begging you to listen to me again. The memories behind that door..." she paused, looking horrified. "We can't handle them. We couldn't handle them then, and we still can't now. They have to be locked away. Please, I'm doing this for both of our sakes. Don't go in there, Ginny," Ginevra said, reaching out to her.

She shook her head, still keeping herself out of arm's reach. "I have to know what's in there. You know that, I know you do, and I hope you'll forgive me, Red Fox."

With that, Ginny turned and walked through the doorway, the mirrored door closing on an empty room.

...

A loud shuddering gasp left Ginny as she bolted upright. Her head was pounding, but there was another sensation that drew her attention, and that was one of pain. The Quick Notes Quill had been new and refilled itself automatically. Ginny's body and her pyjamas were covered in a mess of words and blood. The quill had been sharp enough to draw blood from her skin with some words it seemed, and trails of blood traced a map along her arms and legs. Cursing softly, Ginny grabbed the quill from midair before it could do any more damage and tapped it with her wand to switch the damn thing off. She barely resisted the urge to waste three Galleons by snapping the quill in half.

Her curtains were open and Ginny could see that day was only just starting to break, a greyish light filtering into her room. Thankfully, that meant no one would be up yet. Her mother had taken to rising later in the morning now that she didn't have to cook for so many people, her father rarely got out of bed before his wife, and Ron was notorious for sleeping in late, no matter what breakfast was served.

Getting off the ink and blood-covered bed, Ginny stripped the mattress' coverings before doing the same with her clothes. Rummaging through her old wardrobe, she found a bathrobe, robed herself and hurried to the bathroom. The blood was easier to wash off than the ink, and she turned the hot water until her skin went red under the unforgiving spray.

"Stupid bloody quill. Stupid bloody _refilling_ quill. Stupid sleep talking," Ginny growled, scrubbing at her skin furiously to try and remove more of the inked words.

 _Red Fox_ was staring up at her, mocking her, telling her she didn't even remember half of what she thought she did. Ginny glowered at the offending words and scrubbed them off next.

 _Skeleton, Storm, Snow, Herbologist, Snare, Holey Forge_ were all in various places on her arms, each one erased with a torrent of water and soap. Seeing that more ink was coming off of her than she thought, Ginny transfigured a strand of hair into a mirror, only to find that somehow her shirt had ridden up in the night, and she had writing on her back too. Muttering to herself, Ginny continued to wash her body until the water ran clear and her skin was free of any ink.

Going back to her room once she was dry and dressed, Ginny saw the time and cursed softly. She'd taken longer in the shower than she'd meant to. She hurried to find her bag and robe so she could go to Cloffice for another day of languages. She was meant to have a date with Draco and Blaise that night to help with her Russian, but with everything that she now remembered, Ginny wasn't sure that she wanted to see them just yet.

She remembered being in Nepal with Draco and Blaise, sneaking out of the small house they shared to go into the village further up the hill. The glass blower was exactly as she'd first imagined him - old, nearing on ancient, but graceful once he started working. _The plate with the green and black lines had been a present for them. The green represented Draco while the black was for Blaise, and she was the plate itself. Each one could have survived separately, but when put together, they were even more amazing than they were individually, and she'd wanted something to remind them of that, even as she left for France the next month. They'd loved the present, understood it even without her needing to explain herself. She would be with them, even when she wasn't physically there_.

And for seven long months, she hadn't been near them at all. There were times when she questioned everything, from what she was doing, to her feelings, her very ideals and morals challenged by the job she had accepted, and there were times when everything seemed too much and she wanted nothing more than to _leave_ , to go back to them, even if it was just to **see** them again. But she'd kept herself from doing that, knowing how it would compromise everything that she'd already worked for. In the first few weeks, she'd thrown herself into her work, and kept working until she was too exhausted to feel anything. Then she'd started to get noticed by others at her work, but she denied each offer until Jacques.

Ginny shuddered, despite the hot water from the shower, the very name making her stomach turn. He'd been a pleasant-enough man, charming from the start, and by the end it was obvious that he loved her as much as she claimed to love him. But there was a coldness in his eyes that frightened her. _And she'd seen that coldness play out when_...

 ** _No_**. The memory was squashed down firmly with that one forceful word, and Ginny was almost relieved at her subconscious' action. _If you relive that memory now, you won't be able to function for the rest of the day. In fact, you're going to have a hell of a time with just these memories now. How about you let me take care of them? Just for the day_ , the little voice added when Ginny frowned suspiciously.

 _How on earth are you going to 'take care of them_ '?

 _Keeping them behind a door until you need them. It'll be an easy door to open now that you remember_.

 _You're not going to fight me again_? Ginny asked.

 _No, I promise. You won, you get to remember, no matter what I think about it all. I'll just keep them at the back of your mind for now. I won't even use a door, if you'd prefer? There are some nice wire encasements, or a cage_?

 _Wire encasement, fine. But you let me see those memories the moment I want to, understood_?

 _Understood. Now hurry up before you're late for Cloffice_.

Ginny hurried downstairs, stopped in the kitchen to pocket an apple, and went into the lounge room so she could Floo to her office at _The Quibbler_.

A few minutes later, she was walking through Training Centre Three. Whatever her subconscious had done with those memories didn't seem to be enough, as they were changing the way Ginny was looking at everyone and everything.

 _He's already graduated from Cloffice. She used to date someone who was in Cloffice. Her father is in the Cloffice Weapons and Diversions Division. There's a secret passage behind the painting of Minister Stump and Cloffice founder Williams_...

Despite Ginevra's reservations in her mind (dream, nightmare, hallucination?) the night before, Ginny obviously hadn't gone insane on entering the door. She knew more about people and things than she had the day before, but the information was only presenting itself to her in dribs and drabs, rather than a full-on onslaught. Ginny knew the main memory, the reason that her memories had been locked away in the first place, and there was a small piece of her that wished she had listened and hadn't walked through the door. But it was still a good thing that she knew these things. Now Ginny knew why she had to keep those memories protected, and why she had to pay more attention to her surroundings and anyone who might want to hurt her.

 _Speaking of paying attention to your surroundings, you didn't happen to notice the colour of the door that you just walked through, did you_? her subconscious asked belatedly.

 _Yellow. It was a yellow door. The kitchen entrance._ ** _Shit!_** Ginny thought, turning to try and leave before anyone spotted her.

"Hey, everyone. We've got a new volunteer for this morning's shift!" a man called out, cheers echoing his words. "Come on, love, you can go right up the front and serve breakfast to the hungry little monsters," the wizard said, putting an arm around her shoulder and leading Ginny to the front of the kitchen before she could say anything. "Here's your hair net - don't forget to throw that out later. Nothing worse than having hair net hair when you don't have to - and here's your apron. That needs to be returned at the end of your shift. Don't worry, you'll have enough time to eat something before your first class."

Ginny barely had enough time to put on her hair net and tie the apron strings before the first person appeared, asking for toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. _She's a descendant of the Moon family, who are well known for their almost-translucent complexions and large foreheads. The women in the family keep their names, even after marriage. In fact, it's common for the men to take the surname_ Moon _instead_.

"Come on, then. I haven't got all day!" the woman muttered, holding out her tray impatiently.

Jolted out of her thoughts, Ginny hurried to serve the woman's requested breakfast, and then looked to the next person as she stalked off. _See the bird-like structure of his eyes and cheekbones? Most likely a descendant of Falco Aesalon, the first Animagus_.

"Don't worry about Moon, recruit. She hasn't had her hourly injection of caffeine yet," a wizard said, grinning slightly. "Two slices of toast, two sausages and a side of fried tomatoes."

Ginny nodded and served his request before turning to the next in line. It continued this way, with small pieces of information appearing with nearly every Cloffice recruit that came before her. There were a few that came through the line that didn't provide any detail whatsoever, and Ginny assumed that she hadn't seen them before as Ginevra. Morrigan, Jordan and Claudia were further up the line, and she wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to know anything about them or not.

"All right, Gladstone, you can stop flirting now. The lunch staff might be more receptive," Ginny said with a slight grin.

"Ah, well. Worth a shot. How about an extra rasher of bacon?" Gladstone asked hopefully.

"Get going or I'll tell the coffee crew to skip your request," she said.

He blanched and hurried on. Soon enough, Morrigan, Jordan and Claudia came to order their breakfast too, and Ginny was almost relieved when she didn't get a single piece of information from any of them. Morrigan looked vaguely sympathetic; Jordan looked somewhat amused; whereas Claudia simply looked horrified.

"Got caught going through the wrong door. What'll you have?" Ginny asked with a grin.

"Oat porridge with honey and blackberries, and an apple on the side, please," Morrigan said.

A bowl of the requested porridge appeared in the tray before Ginny, and she placed it on the tray for her friend. She was just glad that the kitchen staff had already done all of the cooking with the help of a Time Turner. All of the kitchen staff wore masks to cover their faces, and there was a reason that the kitchen had separate sections for the chefs to work in. Ginny's spell to serve the dish was sent to a list that the chefs cooked earlier that morning and sent back for her to serve up now. It was probably more complicated than that, but that's how Pansy had explained it to her when Ginevra had asked one time.

"Do you want us to wait at a table for you after breakfast?" Morrigan offered.

"No, it's all right. I've got to do something when I've finished here," Ginny said with a quick smile. "You go to class, I'll be fine."

"All right. See you in class, _mellon_ ," Morrigan said, grinning broadly as she went to the coffee line. ( _Friend_. Elvish.)

"I think Morrigan purposely forgets that Elvish is a dead language," Ginny said to Jordan with a chuckle.

"If the elves heard her talking Elvish, they might reconsider," he said, grinning. "Wholegrain toast and peanut butter, please," Jordan said.

When it was served, he thanked her and went to where Morrigan was sitting with their coffees. Claudia gave her a thin smile, still slightly pale from the horror at Ginny being forced to serve food. As she looked at Claudia, waiting for her order, Ginny noted that there was nothing from her memories or subconscious, but an odd feeling overcame her that Ginny couldn't quite put down to hunger pains.

"I'll have a fruit platter," Claudia said.

Ginny nodded, and served the dish when it arrived. Claudia left to the coffee line without a word of thanks. Keeping her expression neutral, despite the string of slurs that ran through her mind, Ginny turned to the next in line. She smiled genuinely when she saw that it was Pansy, and a feeling of relief flooded her when she saw that no one else was waiting behind her.

"Everything all right, Ginevra?"

"Good, thanks. What would you like, Pansy?"

"My regular, please."

"Two pieces of toast and jam. With a piece of bacon for later," Ginny supplied, grinning.

Pansy didn't look quite as amused as Ginny, and gave a laboured sigh. "So you do have your memories back then."

Ginny's grin slipped, and she nodded briefly. "Yes, and I'd like to talk to you later, if you've got time?"

"About what, exactly?" Pansy asked, taking the offered plate with her breakfast.

"Presumably, what you wanted to talk to me about yesterday," she replied.

Pansy almost dropped the plate, her face paling a single shade. Swallowing forcibly, she gave a nod, thanked her for the food, and went to the coffee line for the strongest coffee they had.

...

"I'll be quick, since I've got a class in a few minutes," Ginny said after closing Pansy's office door behind her.

"Very well," Pansy said, giving her a brief nod as a go-ahead to continue talking.

"I remember why I had my memory repressed," she said bluntly. "I remember the friendship we used to have, and I'm sorry for the way I've treated you... I'm still remembering other things at a slower pace, but I'm getting there, and soon I'll have Ginevra's memories as well as my own."

Pansy was intrigued at how Ginevra referred to her old memories almost as if they were from an entirely separate being, but kept quiet nonetheless.

"I want to finish my training here at Cloffice, as I've only got a week left here, and then the final month at Training Centre Four." Here, Ginny stopped briefly and frowned. "I don't seem to remember what Training Centre Four actually entailed, but I guess I'll find out either way," she said with a slight shrug. "Anyway, I wanted to know a few things..."

Again, Pansy stayed silent and nodded for her to continue.

"First, why are there so many recruits repeating the training? I know for certain that Draco and Blaise graduated when Ginevra did, but they're here again?"

"I've implemented a new training structure for agents to redo their training in order to keep their skills up to date and knowledge current. Draco and Blaise already completed their retraining last year, so weren't required to attend this one, but when they heard that you were coming back, I couldn't hope to keep them away," Pansy explained.

"All right... Secondly, I'd like to organise an appointment with you to discuss certain things I remember," Ginny said vaguely, her eyes glancing at the recording discs on the floor.

"Very well. I'll contact you with the rendezvous details."

"Finally, would you like to catch up with Gabby and me this weekend?" Ginny asked, grinning when she saw a look of surprise flit across Pansy's face.

 _She'd missed the challenge of making Pansy show_ ** _some_** _emotion_!

"I'd love to."

"Good. I'll contact you," Ginny said, giving her a nod. "See you later, Pans."

"Later, Gin," she replied, somewhat automatically.

A long minute passed after Ginevra had left the room, Pansy staring at her desk without truly seeing it. Shaking her head, she focused her attention once more and looked to her diary to schedule a time with Ginny regarding her memories. Then, with a private quill that was spelled to show random letters and numbers to anyone other than herself, Pansy turned to the weekend pages and wrote in 'Gin and Gabby?' for the first time in almost a year. Her date with George was scheduled for the Saturday night, and it had been a very long time since her weekend had been booked up this way. The feeling made her smile softly, but then Pansy realised where she was, schooled her expression quickly, and turned her attention back to her work and her job.

...

Draco and Blaise had slept in (or rather, Draco had refused to let Blaise leave the bed), and had subsequently missed breakfast at the Training Centre. They'd heard all about how Ginevra had served though, Gladstone lamenting that she hadn't given him more bacon, despite his charm and flirtatious manner, and Blaise had to hold Draco back from pummelling the wizard.

Then their teacher walked in, the elderly woman demanding attention and complete silence with a sharply barked command. Gladstone had whimpered, going silent immediately, and even Draco seemed less inclined to hurt the man in the presence of the witch. Blaise released his lover slowly, keeping an eye on him as they all took their seats and waited for the woman to start talking. Silence reigned for almost a full minute, but no one dared to say anything. The witch before them smiled serenely, and started to speak very quickly in Mandarin.

"It is my mission to make sure that by the end of the day, you will know what I just said. Unless someone can translate it for me now?" she asked, looking to each of them in turn.

Draco hadn't kept up with his Mandarin, and had barely understood two words - _something about a pig and jumping? Or was it flying_? Blaise, who had kept up with his Mandarin (he found that staff at certain restaurants became much more friendly when they discovered he could understand and converse with them) understood exactly what she'd said, but didn't dare leave Draco alone with Gladstone, and stayed silent.

"Very well. Repeat after me," she said, tapping her wand to the board to reveal a set of Chinese characters.

...

"Have you bought your dress robes for the Malfoy Ball yet, dear?" Molly asked Ginny, smiling at her as she served dinner.

"No, I haven't yet. I've been so busy, it's completely slipped my mind," she replied, taking the offered plate with thanks. "I might do that this weekend," Ginny mused.

"Why don't you invite some friends and make a day of it? Hermione might be persuaded to leave her office," Molly said with a bit of a chuckle. "Poor Ronnie-kins hasn't seen her all week."

Ginny, who had immediately thought of Morrigan, Gabrielle and Pansy, made a noncommittal sound and shrugged. "I'll see how I go. I might be too busy myself."

"All right, dear. Oh, I must say that I enjoyed your last article. It had more humour in it than some of your previous ones did. After three months of writing, I didn't think that you'd change your style in that way, but I must say that it was a refreshing change," Molly said, smiling.

As she hadn't read the article herself, Ginny just smiled, thanked her, and changed the subject. It seemed that the three month probation for her previous ghost writer was over, and someone else had taken over the role.

"Mum, I'm going over to 'Mione's. I'll be back later, don't wait up. Oh, you're here. What's wrong with George's place?" Ron asked as he came into the dining room and saw Ginny sitting at the table.

"Nothing. Just needed some time to myself. Besides, I've been here for a whole week, Ron," Ginny added pointedly.

"Yeah? Well, I've been busy at work and haven't been home much," he said, shrugging.

"So it has nothing to do with the new Wireless system the Ministry's put in the staff room, and the reruns of the Cannon matches they've been playing right after work?" Ginny asked, grinning when he reddened.

"No, it doesn't! Bye," Ron said, Apparating quickly.

"Ron's old enough to stay after work if he likes, Ginny. Goodness knows that our old Wireless couldn't handle all of those reruns, especially with the way your brother gets during certain matches," Molly said.

Remembering one particular match where Ron had almost hexed the Wireless, she agreed with a brief nod.

"Thanks for dinner, Mum. I'm going out too. I don't know when I'll be back, so don't wait up for me," Ginny said, kissing her mother's cheek quickly and Apparating.

...

Ginny knew where she was going, but despite that, she didn't have it in her to Apparate straight there. Her courage was on shaky ground, and she forced herself to walk up to the door and knock.

George opened the door, his eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ginny standing on his doorstep, looking uncertain.

"I'm so sorry, Gin," he said, the words out before he could even think about it.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. At that moment, George didn't rightly care if his sister hated him for everything that he'd done and said, because gods, he'd missed her.

"Why are you sorry?" Ginny asked as she pulled away, puzzled.

"Well... You remember everything now, don't you?"

"Getting there. It's a slow process," she admitted, shrugging briefly.

"Do you remember what I did? What I said?" George asked, his voice quiet.

Thinking about it for a moment, Ginny thought back to when she was Ginevra and the last time she'd seen George.

_"You have to do this for me, George. I can't trust anyone else to Obliviate me properly! You'll know what family things I have to keep in my head. But everything else - all of this - has to go. I mean it, I can't let myself remember a thing!" Ginevra had said, her voice becoming hysterical._

_George shook his head. "I can't do that, Ginevra. I won't do that to you. You really think I want you to go back to ... what would you go back to, exactly? Ginny, the girlfriend of Harry Potter? You'd get a job in the Ministry and you really think that would be enough? You think that a job in the Ministry and going back to that cheating bastard is enough to get away from whatever it is you're running from?"_

_"It has to be, George. I'll make it enough. I don't even care about the job or Potter, this has to be done. It's to save everyone, not just myself. Please, George you have to do this for me," she pleaded, moving towards him._

_George shook his head, stepping back. "I can't, Ginevra. I couldn't live with myself if I did this to you. Get someone else to ruin your life."_

_She stood there and watched as George Disapparated, and with a shuddering breath, a feeling of betrayal that she tried desperately to quash, Ginevra turned to Pansy, threw whatever pride and dignity she had left out of the window, and_ ** _begged_**.

"You were right, in a sense," Ginny admitted. "The job and Potter weren't enough in the end. But I'm not running away anymore, George. I'm going to deal with this, just like I should have to begin with."

"Do you even know who you're dealing with? What you ran from?" George asked.

A shiver flowed over her, and Ginny gave a succinct nod. "I know. But I have to finish at Cloffice first, or I know I won't be strong enough to do what needs to be done. I need the extra training and I need to remind my body what it is to fight again. It's been a long time, after all."

"Well, in that case, I'd better get the punching bag out of the building's basement," George said brightly, grinning.

"But first things first," Ginny said, before he could get too carried away. "Can I move back in with you, please?"

"Of course! I left everything the way you had it. Including the sink full of dishes," George said cheerfully.

Wincing at the prospect of facing whatever had been living in the sink, Ginny stepped over the threshold and headed to the kitchen. When it was clean, she'd owl Draco and Blaise to reschedule their date, and firecall Neville and Dennis to reassure them that she was fine. Taking off her robe, she rolled up her sleeves and went to clean the mess she had left behind.

...

End of the twenty-seventh chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	28. Chapter 28

"So then he ended with 'I know we've had our differences in the past, but I just want you to know that I forgive you, and I'm willing to take you back', as if he's a saint or something! I, of course, told him to drop dead and hexed him for good measure. Since they had their ruby back, the goblins conveniently turned the other cheek," Ginny said, grinning as her two companions laughed.

"Oh, gods. No more, my stomach can't handle it!" Gabrielle said, waving at her helplessly.

"I can't believe Michael Corner thought you actually wanted to get back together with him!" Pansy said, chuckling. "Not to mention, you conveniently left that out of your report. I could have used the laugh."

"Please, if I'd put that in, you probably would have bailed him out of the Gringotts gaol cell just to hex him too!" Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"No, but I might have mentioned it in passing to your brother," she said, smirking.

"Speaking of George, how are things going with you two?" Gabrielle asked, a suggestive lilt to her voice that no one missed, least of all Pansy.

"As well as can be expected with everything that's happening," Pansy replied cautiously, giving a brief shrug.

"Please, George comes home grinning from ear to ear if you've just _owled_ or _firecalled_ each other during the day," Ginny scoffed.

"He does?" she asked, blinking once in surprise.

Ginny nodded firmly. "I haven't seen him this happy in years, Pans. Nor you," she added pointedly, Gabrielle nodding in agreement.

"You both... 'ow you say, _glow_?" Gabrielle said, her accent back in a second.

Frowning slightly, Ginny glanced around them. Gabby only put her accent on if she saw someone that she knew. Spying a familiar face through the restaurant window, Ginny forced herself to smile. Taking her smile as an invitation, the woman walked inside and headed over to their table.

"Hermione's here. Be nice," Ginny muttered, though she wasn't entirely sure if she was trying to convince Pansy or herself.

"Hi Ginny. Hi Gabrielle. Uh, hello ... Pansy," Hermione said hesitantly.

"Hermione," she returned with a polite nod.

"How are you?" Ginny asked, really meaning ' _what are you doing here?_ '.

"Oh, I'm good, thank you. Ron's away on Auror business this weekend, and I didn't want to sit around the house by myself again. It's not really reading weather," she mused, looking outside to where the rare sunshine was filtering through the clouds.

"No, I don't suppose it is," Ginny agreed, trying to keep her smile on her face. _No, really, why are you here_?

"Ron told me you'd moved back into the Burrow, so I went there to see if you wanted to go out or something. Then Molly told me that you'd moved back in with George, but you were probably going to look for dress robes for the Malfoy Annual Ball. I must say, I'm surprised you got an invite. Was it really due to that article you wrote?" Hermione asked with a slight frown.

"Yes, it really was. It seems that Draco and Blaise are intent on proving me wrong about what I implied," Ginny replied with a slight smile.

" _Draco_ and _Blaise_?" Hermione echoed, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Yes, those _are_ their given names, and we're all adult enough to address each other by them," Ginny said, somewhat sarcastically at Hermione's childish response.

Across the table, Pansy raised her eyebrow at Ginny's display of emotion, her own expression thankfully hidden from Hermione's sight. Ginny resisted the urge to scowl back at Pansy, and forced herself to smile at Hermione. ( _Do try to look a little more natural; you're imitating Lockhart at the moment_ , the little voice murmured quietly.)

"I wasn't planning on shopping for dress robes until next weekend, if you'd like to catch up then?" Ginny offered.

Hermione's crestfallen expression and slight ' _oh_ ' clearly showed that she was hoping for an invitation to their luncheon. Ginny faltered slightly. She felt a little bad at brushing Hermione off - despite the other woman's thoughts of superiority - but she didn't want to stop talking with Gabrielle and Pansy. Hermione didn't have clearance to hear the sorts of things they were talking about.

"Would you like to sit down, Hermione?" Pansy offered suddenly, making the decision for Ginny.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude... But I _am_ hungry," Hermione added, taking the available seat quickly.

Seeing that another person had arrived at their table, a waiter made his way over and took Hermione's order to include with their tea and cakes.

"So... What have you been up to since Hogwarts, Park... uh, Pansy?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Not a lot. I'm currently living off my inheritance while I decide what I want to do in the future. I'd prefer not to rush into a job I loathe simply because society deems that I should have a job."

Hermione gave a brief nod, looking slightly surprised at her answer. "Oh, okay... What about relationships? Harry came over a couple of months ago babbling about you seeing George, but that's ridiculous, of course."

"Why is it ridiculous?" Pansy asked, arching her eyebrow.

"Because he's George, and you're... you," Hermione said, getting flustered.

"An astute observation, but it still doesn't answer my question. Why would a relationship between me, a single woman, and George, a single man, be ridiculous?"

Ginny could hear the voice in her head cackling wildly, and her own internal laughter joined with her subconscious. She forced herself to keep a straight face and waited for Hermione's answer.

"Well, maybe ridiculous is too strong a word, but certainly a surprise, considering everything that happened at Hogwarts," Hermione said carefully, realising that she was treading on thin ice, even if she didn't know why.

"Both Fred and George were always pleasant to me at Hogwarts; I had no issue with them, nor they with me," Pansy stated simply.

"Does that mean you really are dating George then?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes, I am. Although we are keeping our relationship under wraps for the moment so as to not receive any undue pressure from either sides of our family."

"I thought your parents died in the Final War?" Hermione asked with a frown.

 _Well, that was bloody insensitive_ , the voice in Ginny's mind muttered, Ginny agreeing silently.

"Yes, my parents did die in the Final War, but I still have their portraits. Their painted versions are just as stubborn and hard-headed as my parents were before their deaths... Besides, there are always the not-so-immediate family members who will come out of the woodworks if I announced a relationship with one of the heroes of the Final War. They would demand money, fame, or anything else that I don't want or need to deal with, and I doubt George would appreciate it either. The Weasley family has already dealt with something similar after the war ended," Pansy added.

"T-they did?" Hermione asked, surprised that this was the first she'd heard of it. "Ron's never mentioned anything," she said, frowning as she looked to Ginny for confirmation.

"Of course he hasn't; he doesn't know. Ron was never there after the war; after Fred's funeral, he was always with you or off doing interviews with Harry," Ginny said, shrugging.

Hermione still looked a little confused, and Ginny continued, "Aunt Muriel was struck with a sudden life-threatening disease that only copious amounts of money could fix. We gained about three families' worth of distant relatives from all around the world, all of whom wanted a brush with fame, and if they could get it, our money. Luckily, Mum knows exactly how to deal with stubborn people, and all of them were sent off with wands at their backs and no more money than what they arrived with. Aunt Muriel included."

"Oh, my. I didn't realise. Why didn't Molly tell me?"

"Why should she? What would you 'ave done?" Gabrielle asked, frowning.

"I... I don't know. I could have been there for her," Hermione said uncertainly.

"I think Mum was just happy that you were there for Ron," Ginny said.

Their orders arrived and a grateful silence lapsed as they all drank their tea and started on their cakes. Ginny had chosen a chocolate croissant, but was disappointed to find that it wasn't as nice as the one Mrs. Fairley had made in Draco's bakery.

"So where are you planning on shopping for dress robes, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"I haven't decided yet. Probably Madam Malkin's," she said, shrugging.

"'Ow about Monsieur Grillet's?" Gabrielle suggested.

"But he's the most expensive robe maker in France!" Hermione exclaimed.

"'e is also ze best," she replied pointedly. "A friend of mine works for 'im, I can get you an appointment," Gabrielle offered to Ginny.

"Do you have enough money to buy something there, Ginny?" Hermione asked in a whisper that was just loud enough to be heard by Pansy and Gabrielle.

Pansy raised her eyebrow slightly and waited for Ginny to explode.

"My financial status is a private matter, thank you, Hermione," Ginny said quietly, the other woman going a shade of red to rival Ron's usual colour. "If you could make an appointment at Monsieur Grillet's, I would appreciate it, Gabrielle," she added with a brief smile.

Ginny desperately wanted to rip into Hermione for belittling her like that in front of her friends, but she managed to keep a lid on her temper. While she thought about it, Ginny decided not to mention Hermione's superfluous spending on toys for Crookshanks. She wouldn't lower herself to the same pitiful behaviour as Hermione was displaying.

"I'll also make an appointment at Madam Malkin's in case I decide that the fashion or price is too extravagant for my liking," Ginny said.

"Zat is a good idea, Ginnee," Gabrielle said, smiling at her, and in her smile Ginny could see that she was repressing the urge to hex Hermione too.

"Well, I'm sorry to run off like this, but I've got to prepare for my date with George tonight," Pansy said, putting a few Sickles on the table to cover her side of the bill. "Oh, you won't tell the Weasley's about my relationship with George, will you, Hermione?"

"No, I won't tell them," Hermione promised, giving her a brief smile as Pansy left the café. "I suppose I'd better go as well. You'll tell me where to meet you to go dress robe shopping next weekend, won't you, Ginny?"

"All right," Ginny said.

Hermione smiled brightly and left too. Gabrielle let out a growl when she saw that Hermione hadn't left a single piece of currency to contribute to the bill. She started swearing in French, and Ginny tried not to laugh at the impossibility of what her sister-in-law was suggesting. She scooped up Pansy's coins and went to pay for their meal, Gabrielle giving her a few Sickles too. When she returned to the table, Gabrielle was still muttering under her breath about Hermione.

"I cannot wait until the next Weasley family dinner. I am going to spill soup on her," Gabrielle muttered.

"I don't think your accent can get you out of that one, Gabby," Ginny said, grinning.

"I didn't say that I'd spill _my_ soup on her. A brief Veela moment will make the boys trip over themselves," she snickered.

"Oh, you are a cunning witch."

"I take pride in my abilities. Now, don't you have to prepare for a date with Messrs. Malfoy and Zabini?" she asked, grinning.

"Maybe... How's your relationship going with Jean?" Ginny asked, remembering that Gabby had been dating a witch back when she'd been Ginevra.

"We broke up," Gabrielle replied, shrugging. "I'm dating Chance now. She's wonderful, and it doesn't hurt that she's a fantastic lover too," she said, grinning wickedly.

"I'm sure it doesn't, but I'm going to stop you there. I know how you like to kiss and tell, Gabby, but you'd better not, or I'll reveal a lot of details about your distant cousin's bedroom habits," Ginny threatened, Ginevra's memories almost enough to make her blush.

"Oh, please, I don't consider that a threat," Gabby laughed. "Go on, before I make you tell me everything."

Ginny shook her head at Gabrielle with a grin, kissed her cheek goodbye and left.

...

"So you remember everything?" Draco asked, smirking as he glanced over Ginny's form.

Blaise rolled his eyes and whacked him on the shoulder. "Just because Gin remembers, it doesn't mean she's going to jump in bed with you."

"Exactly," Ginny said firmly. "I'm still getting used to everything, and just because I remember what it was like being ravished between you, it doesn't mean that I'm the same person..."

Draco stepped forward, stilling her words with a kiss. He squeezed her hips gently, his hands trailing up her sides until one hand tilted her chin up, his tongue slipping into her mouth as she moaned. Blaise came up behind her a moment later, his lips pressing hot kisses against her neck as his hands moved to caress her stomach. Another moan, this one swallowed by Draco's devouring mouth, and she covered one of Blaise's hands with her own, the other's fingers threading into Draco's hair, holding him to her eagerly. The memory of being kissed just like this once before filled Ginny's vision, and she knew that she'd responded the same way back then too. They all pulled away a moment later, Ginny breathing heavily as Draco smirked down at her, Blaise resting his head against her shoulder, his arm still wrapped around her waist.

"You still respond the exact same way, Gin. You're still the same person that loved us," Draco said softly, dipping his head for another kiss.

Ginny bit his tongue, following his withdrawal into his own mouth quickly. _Ginevra had never done_ ** _that_** _with them_ , she thought fiercely; _why couldn't Draco see that she was so much more than she'd been before_?

Blaise turned her around abruptly, his mouth descending on hers before Ginny could truly get her bearings. She clung to him, her head spinning as she tried to fight for dominance. Blaise was grinning against her lips, damn him, and lifted her by the hips suddenly. Ginny wrapped a leg around his waist eagerly, pleased at the way he was trying something new. Of course, she'd done this sort of thing with them before, but Blaise and Draco usually waited until she'd finished kissing one to change to the other.

Right now, Ginny wanted them to see her for her, not as Ginevra, the woman she'd once been. She'd been telling the truth; she wasn't the same person that they'd known, and Ginny wanted them to recognise that too, even if she still responded to them in the same way.

Draco growled slightly behind her, moved so that he was pressed flush up against her body, and stole Blaise's lips from Ginny. He nipped at his bottom lip, angry that Blaise had deviated from their agreement. Blaise just grinned and kissed him back, Ginny watching with lust-darkened eyes between them. Reluctantly, Blaise pulled away from Draco and pressed a chaste kiss to Ginny's lips.

"I hope you'll still join us for dinner, Gin," he asked quietly.

"Of course I will," she said, smiling with swollen lips. "I might just go get freshened up first," Ginny added, stepping out of their embrace.

"Of course. Draco and I will be in the Eastern dining room," Blaise said, watching as she left to the bathroom quickly.

"What did you do that for, Blaise?" Draco asked, growling again.

"You're an idiot sometimes, you know that, Dray? Gin's still trying to get over everything, she's coming to terms with the fact that she led a double life, and that we were an intimate part of that life, and you have to go and compare her with Ginevra! She doesn't want to be the same person that she was, Dray, but amazingly, she still wants _us_ to be a part of her life. You have to stop comparing her to what she was. You hate it if anyone brings up your actions at Hogwarts, this is the same for her, okay?" Blaise said, his voice firm.

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But you've got to know how hard it is for me; I fell in love with Ginevra, and this is killing me."

"So did I, Dray. We can fall in love with her all over again; just stop trying to pressure Gin into being the way she was before, or else we might not end up the same way this time around," Blaise said, kissing him gently.

Draco sighed and wrapped his arms around Blaise's waist, holding Blaise against him lovingly. He would try to stop comparing Ginny to Ginevra, for all of their sakes.

...

"You really promise that you're all right, Gin?" Neville asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, Neville. It... it was just a shock, that's all," Ginny reassured him.

"Yeah, I figured as much," he said with a brief nod. "Do you want to come over on the weekend for dinner? Dennis and I are going to his father's house tomorrow, so we'll bring fudge back."

Ginny snorted. "Will any of it survive the trip back, let alone four days before the weekend?"

"Probably not, but if you don't come to dinner, you'll never know," Neville said, grinning broadly.

"All right, all right, I'll be there. Caramel fudge with..."

"Chocolate swirls, yeah, I know," he replied, chuckling.

"Good. Make sure not to eat any," she groused, a memory of receiving an empty fudge box in her mind.

"Even if I think it's poisonous?"

"I'll take my chances," Ginny replied, grinning.

"Fine then. I offer my gallant services as your food tester, and it's shot down so cruelly," he said dramatically, grinning back at her. "You still want to come to dinner then?"

"Sure, Saturday or Sunday night?"

"Saturday's fine with me."

"Great, see you then. Have a good night," Neville said.

"You too. Say hi to Dennis for me."

"Same to George."

They closed their grates at the same time, and Ginny turned to see George waiting in the doorway patiently.

"All right there, Gin-bug?"

"Yeah, all right. Neville says hello," she replied with a smile. "Are you okay?" Ginny asked with a slight frown.

He shrugged. "Been better, been worse. My ear's been playing up all day and it's been making me irritable."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"At this point, I wouldn't say no to a cup of tea and a Calming Draught," George muttered.

"I think I can arrange those for you. You go sit down and I'll be back soon," Ginny said, kissing his cheek with a smile.

George rubbed the right side of his head with a frown and plonked down onto the armchair. As he waited for his sister to return, his hand slipped into his pocket and curled around the round portable Pensieve. He pulled it out and tapped the top with his wand. A whirring noise sounded as the top opened, and he looked down at the white wisps of memories. Very few of the white wisps were actually George's own memories; most were Fred's, all bequeathed to him.

They'd made wills before joining in with the war seriously, and despite the seriousness of the situation, they'd both left the notary laughing. They'd laughed over how they'd just wasted the parchment and nothing was going to happen to them. _We're too pretty to die_ , Fred had said, laughing.

George shut the lid with a snap and returned the portable Pensieve to his pocket once more. Ginny came into the lounge room moments later, a cup of tea and a vial in her hands. George thanked her briefly, sipped at the tea, and swallowed the Calming Draught in one quick shot. His body relaxed slowly, his ear stopped aching so much, and he sighed softly, closing his eyes as he finished his tea in a blissful and grateful silence. By the time he opened his eyes, Ginny had left the room. George set his empty mug in the kitchen sink and went to bed, rolling the Pensieve between his fingers carefully.

...

"I'm so glad that this is the last day we have in Training Centre Three. I swear, I spent every night from Friday to Sunday actually _dreaming_ about foreign languages. To make it worse, I keep getting Spanish and Italian mixed up," Morrigan said with a sigh.

"They're fairly similar languages; it's understandable at least," Ginny said comfortingly.

"I keep wanting to say things in different languages. I go to say _domo arigato_ and _s'il vous plaît_ instead of thank you and please. This feels like one of the harder things we've actually had to do because at the end of the day, we have to revert back to English," Jordan said, shaking his head. ( _Thank you_. Japanese. _Please_. French.)

"Aren't your grandparents French?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, but I never showed an interest in learning French before. They'd wonder why I started learning now, especially when we don't talk often enough to justify it," Jordan said, shrugging.

"Say you want to reconnect with your grandparents, and you thought that learning French might help you do that. Even if it doesn't work out, at least you've got some sort of excuse for your family and friends," Ginny said, grinning.

"I didn't know your grandparents were French, Jordan," Claudia said, smiling at him.

"Grandparents on my mother's side," he replied with a shrug. "What do you think, Morrigan? You've met my grandparents, do you think it'd work?" Jordan asked, looking to her.

"I think so. They both tried really hard to keep the conversation going, but their English isn't the best, so I think you wanting to learn French for them could really work," Morrigan replied, smiling back at him.

The doors opened for them to go inside to do their language test, and they fell silent as they walked inside. Ginny grabbed Morrigan's arm, grinning broadly.

"You've met Jordan's grandparents already?" she asked her, grinning.

Morrigan blushed slightly and nodded. "Last weekend. We did a whole _meet the family_ dinner. He met my grandmother. She adores him," she whispered, unable to stop from smiling.

"We'll talk more later," Ginny whispered, squeezing her hand quickly. "Good luck."

"You too," Morrigan said, taking her seat.

The small woman who ran the Chinese language class flicked her wand and the doors closed with a sound of finality.

"Your time starts... now."

Their tests appeared on the desks before them, and Ginny looked down at the parchments, frowning slightly when she saw that the whole thing was actually written in a different language as well. So not only did she have to answer the written questions, she also had to decode the questions themselves!

 _Well, this is going to be fun_ , Ginny thought to herself with a sigh, picking up the quill to begin.

...

"Gin, there you are. I ran into an old friend of mine. This is Morrigan, she used to supply plants and potions for _Wheezes_ ," George introduced as Ginny came over to their booked table. "Of course, this was before she left me to go and run her own business," he added with a grin. "Morrigan, this is my sister, Ginny. She's working at _The Quibbler_ as a writer."

"Hi Morrigan, it's nice to meet you," Ginny said, shaking her hand warmly.

"Likewise, Ginny. I didn't know you wrote for _The Quibbler_ ," she murmured.

"I didn't know you had your own business," she countered, grinning.

Morrigan laughed, and George grinned as he called the waiter over to place their order. He was glad that Gin had finally asked him to introduce her to Morrigan outside of Cloffice. Working for the Centaur Liaison Office could often be a lonely job, but it definitely helped to have someone to talk to outside of the Training Centres. George knew that he wouldn't always be around for Gin to talk to, but if Gin could keep meeting Morrigan without raising any suspicions, it might be enough. Laughter from both women brought him out of his thoughts abruptly, and George smiled at them as they drew him into the conversation once more.

...

 

End of the twenty-eighth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	29. Chapter 29

There was a tapping sound at the window, and Ginny opened her eyes blearily. She saw a grey light filtering in through the curtain, and an owl tapping impatiently at her window, an envelope in its beak.

 _If that was an owl from Oliver for George again, she'd be having roasted owl for breakfast_ , she thought to herself, dragging her body out of bed to open the window.

The owl flew inside her room, dropped the envelope on her bed and left without waiting for a treat or answer. Ginny muttered about inconsiderate owls, shut the window and, after putting the envelope on her bedside table, went straight back to bed. Whatever was inside of the envelope could wait until she was actually conscious and could read the damn thing properly.

Tossing and turning for a good twenty minutes, Ginny rolled on to her side to glare at the offending envelope. _How dare someone deliver mail before five in the morning on a_ ** _Saturday!_** _It was inconsiderate and rude, that's what it was. Even the little voice in her head was still asleep, for the gods' sakes_!

 _I'm not, actually. I just didn't want to interrupt your inner monologue when you seemed to be entertaining yourself so easily_.

 _Are you always this sarcastic at this time of the morning_? Ginny muttered.

 _Of course I am, no other response would suffice at this time. Now, are you going to read the damn thing and go back to sleep, or stay awake staring at it stubbornly for another half-hour_?

Sighing, Ginny sat up and reached for the envelope. She opened it and pulled out the thin piece of parchment with a slight frown. _If the message was that short, why didn't the sender just firecall her? Actually, who on earth was this letter from anyway_? Ginny wanted to rip into them for sending an owl so damn early in the morning.

The parchment revealed two series of numbers: 49.71493, -2.20654.

 _That's it? What the hell is that_? Ginny asked with a groan of annoyance.

 _You really can't tell? Honestly, who trained you_? the voice asked incredulously.

 _Ugh, fine. It's a longitude and latitude. But why should that interest me_?

 _Find out where it is, maybe that'd reveal more_.

Sighing, Ginny took a hold of her wand to show a map of the world. She wouldn't get any sleep if she didn't work this out, that much was obvious. Setting the latitude and longitude, Ginny closed her eyes as the world spun then zoomed in and out until it focused on the spot properly.

 _St. Anne, an island in France. Right, still failing to see why this is interesting or relevant_...

 _An island in Muggle France, perhaps_ , the little voice replied.

Ginny ignored the voice for a moment, something niggling at the back of her mind. Somewhere in the depths of her memories - or perhaps they were Ginevra's memories - Ginny knew that she _knew_ this place. Unable to remember how she knew the place properly, she flicked her wand to show the wizarding version of the island. The small land mass turned green and as she saw the largest wizarding transportation centre that was on the island, Ginny suddenly realised that the whole island was owned by the Centaur Liaison Office.

 _Of course! She'd used that transport centre to get between England and France when she set up the French Minister. The island was owned by Cloffice, but it was still considered neutral ground since it was technically on French soil_.

"Okay, so now what?" Ginny muttered aloud.

She knew where it was, what the place was, but Ginny still had no idea who had sent this to her or, more importantly, why.

 _I've got about as much idea as you do_ , the voice said with what could only be construed as a shrug.

With a groan at the uselessness of the past forty-five minutes, Ginny flopped back onto her mattress and went back to sleep.

...

"You look distracted, Ginny. Is everything all right?" Hermione asked, drawing Ginny from her thoughts quickly.

"Everything's fine. I just had a bit of a restless night," she replied with a quick and what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

She was still thinking about the message and St. Anne island, five hours after decoding the message. Ginny knew that she was distracted and should pay more attention to the dresses that were being offered to her, but her mind kept turning the information over and over uselessly.

"Are you worried about going to the Malfoy Annual Ball? I'd be so nervous about going," Hermione admitted.

"It is nothing to worree about, 'Ermione. The Malfoy Annual Ball is not zat bad," Gabrielle said flippantly.

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"I always go to zee ball," she replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"What?! How? _Why_?"

"I am a cousin of ze Malfoy familee, so of course I always go. I always Apparate. Floo is too messy in a dress," Gabrielle replied with a slight frown as she flicked through the catalogue of dresses that Monsieur Grillet had provided them.

Hermione still seemed shocked that Gabrielle would willingly attend a ball hosted by the Malfoy family and simply stared at her for a long while.

"You just need to make sure to thank ze host and hostess, who are Draco and Narcissa, of course. As you are going as Blaise's date, he will probably 'elp you so you do not embarrass yourself or 'im. It is a very fancee affair, but I am sure zat you will be fine," Gabrielle reassured Ginny with a smile.

"You're on a first-name basis with the Malfoys?" Hermione asked, her jaw finally working once more.

"Of course I am! Zey are my cousins and my family, and I 'ave ze same blood as zey do! I do not like what you are insinuating, 'Ermione!"

Gabrielle's Veela ancestry seemed to come out in full force as her anger increased, and one of Monsieur Grillet's assistants tripped over his own feet, accidentally knocking Hermione off the chair she was sitting on. She fell on the ground with a cry of pain, and the poor assistant apologised to her profusely as he helped her stand. He was bright red, his apologies becoming flustered as Monsieur Grillet came over, telling him off in rapid French.

 _Although_ , Ginny noted, _he wasn't actually telling his assistant off_. Monsieur Grillet had seen Gabrielle's anger, decided that his customer was in the right, and was telling his assistant to have the afternoon off instead.

The man looked between the three women and his employer, apologised once more and left as fast as his feet could carry him.

"I do apologise for my former assistant's behaviour, Mademoiselle. He will not be 'ere to bother you again," Monsieur Grillet said to Hermione. "Have you seen a dress you like, Mademoiselle?" he asked Ginny, smiling at her.

Ginny had been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn't actually looked at the catalogue yet. She was about to say just that, but Gabrielle stood up and showed her a page.

"I 'ave been 'olding ze catalogue all zis time, Monsieur. I believe zat you will suit zis one; what do you think, Ginnee?" Gabrielle asked her.

"It's very nice. A bit too revealing for a ball that's in Autumn, though. Isn't there something a bit warmer than that?"

"All of my dresses have warming charms sewn in to them," Monsieur Grillet informed her.

"How about zis one then?" Gabrielle asked, showing her another page.

"Oh, I like that one," Ginny said, her eyes flicking to the price at the bottom.

"Tut-tut. No looking at ze price, Ginnee. 'Ermione, what do you think?" Gabrielle asked, showing the page to her.

Hermione seemed surprised that Gabrielle would acknowledge her after the fit she'd thrown only moments ago, but still looked at the pictured dress. It was black, but came in other colours apparently, and the entire back section of the dress was criss-crossed. The front would have been tame if not for the diamond of missing material that was resting just above the model's breasts, showing a fair amount of cleavage.

 _If this one wasn't revealing, just what had the other one been like_?! Remembering some of the attending fashion that appeared in the Daily Prophet the day after the Malfoy Annual Ball, Hermione supposed that it could have been worse.

"It's not bad," Hermione said. "I couldn't wear it myself, but I'm sure Ginny would look nice."

"Perhaps you would like to look through the catalogue yourself, Mademoiselle?" Monsieur Grillet offered, holding an identical catalogue out for her.

"Oh. Yes, that would be nice, thank you," Hermione said, starting to flip through the pages with a look of determination on her face.

 _Oh, dear God. Imagine Ron's face if he saw that one! Or that one! Especially that one. And the prices were far too exorbitant; honestly, it was just a dress_!

...

Collapsing on the lounge, Ginny closed her eyes and tried to ease her aching head.

Gabrielle and Hermione had started arguing in Monsieur Grillet's about the dress prices, and the argument had continued on to Madam Malkin's. Gabrielle seemed to hate Hermione with a passion, and from what she'd been muttering in rapid French, Ginny gathered that it had something to do with her previous relationship with Jean. She hadn't had a chance to ask her about it because Monsieur Grillet had firmly _suggested_ that they continue with their plans for the day, and they'd gone on to Madam Malkin's.

"Day was that good, huh?" George asked with a slight grin as he came into the lounge room to see his sister lying on the lounge, one hand pressed to her forehead with the other hanging off the lounge listlessly.

"Don't have the energy to talk about it. Do we have any headache potions?" Ginny asked, her tone more of a plea than questioning.

"I'll go check," George said, leaving and returning a few minutes later. "We've got one left. I'll make some more up this week," he added, offering the vial to her.

"Okay; thank you, George," Ginny said, sitting up to drink the potion in one shot.

Her headache began to ease slowly, and she risked making the headache return in full force to open her eyes and look to her brother. He was looking at her far too pensively to be simply concerned over a headache. 

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

"I'm fine, dearest sister. This week is the start of your final month at Cloffice, isn't it?" George asked.

"Yes, it is... You haven't suddenly decided to tell me what Training Centre Four involves, have you?" Ginny asked, sitting up a bit straighter now.

"Not at all. Don't you have a dinner date with Neville and Dennis tonight?"

"Oh, bollocks! I'd forgotten about that," Ginny said, seeing the time and scrambling off the lounge to go and get changed.

George sighed to himself softly and went to find a piece of parchment long enough to write the necessary ingredients for various healing potions and salves. The headache potions would have to wait.

...

"I swear, if I had to choose between living forever without food, or dying tomorrow after a piece of this fudge; I'd pick dying tomorrow," Ginny murmured, her eyes closed as she savoured the caramel fudge with chocolate swirls. "I _love_ your dad, Dennis."

"Your hips won't," Neville said with a chuckle.

"Don't care; this is so worth it."

"I'll let him know," Dennis said with a brief nod and half smile.

"How is your dad anyway?" Ginny asked.

"Not bad, considering. His milk route is shrinking with the new supermarket opening in the town, so he's looking for more work."

"I suggested that he make fudge full-time," Neville said, grinning. "I'd order batches at a time."

"So would I," Ginny agreed with a nod. "Of course, I'd have to think of some way to pay for it because I'd obviously lose my job when I stayed home to eat fudge all day."

"Promising to buy fudge and then admitting that you wouldn't actually pay for it? That's cold, Gin," Neville said, trying not to laugh at her expression.

"How's your training going?" Dennis asked.

"Yeah, it's going good. I just finished Training Centre Three on Friday," Ginny said with a grin. "I don't think anyone can think straight after four full weeks of languages; not one person has even speculated or gossiped about what happens in Training Centre Four! I still have no idea, and it's just weird that there's no talk about it in the cafeteria. I mean, after all of the rumours and speculation about the fourth week in Training Centre One, I really thought there'd be more talk."

Dennis and Neville shared a look, one that was far too obvious for Ginny to miss, and she frowned at them.

"Don't tell me; you can't say anything about it, I have to find out on my own, and that's all you can say under an Unbreakable Vow?" Ginny recited, getting the same speech from George earlier in the week.

"Exactly right. Sorry, Gin, but I don't want to be subjected to the terms of my Unbreakable Vow over this," Neville admitted.

She sighed and gave a nod of understanding. "Fine, but you owe me another batch of fudge for this."

"I make no promises," he said with a chuckle. "Come on, put the fudge away and I'll serve up dinner. Look at us, eating dessert before dinner."

"We're food rebels," Dennis said with a quick grin.

Ginny's laughter seemed to please him, and Neville smiled as he went to the kitchen. His smile slipped when he was sure no one could see, and he sighed softly. Neville sorely wished that Gin wouldn't have to go through this Training Centre.

"Need help serving, Neville?" Ginny asked, popping her head in the kitchen with a bright smile.

"I'll be fine. Go and sit down before I take away your fudge," he threatened.

"You wouldn't!" she gasped dramatically. Her expression broke out into a peal of laughter as she broke the charade and went back to the dining table.

Forcing a smile on his face, Neville served up their dinner and levitated the three bowls to the table. He was immensely proud that neither his hand nor the bowls trembled.

...

"You look lovely, my dear Pansy," George said with a warm smile, offering Pansy his arm.

"Thank you, George. You don't scrub up too bad yourself," she said.

"Ah, such common words from such a pure mouth."

"Oh, do stop it, George. I'm in an irritable mood."

"Hmm, all right. I think I might make a change of plans then. Are you comfortable bending in that outfit?"

"I beg your pardon?" Pansy asked, frowning at him.

He chuckled, realising what he must have been implying. "Nothing quite so dirty, my dear Pansy; maybe later though," George added in a stage whisper, giving her a wink. "I'm going to take you out bowling; you can picture people's heads on the tenpins. Very therapeutic, so I've heard," he said with a slight grin.

Fred had been the first one to suggest bowling as a way of getting her frustrations out after one particularly rough sexual encounter. It wasn't that he'd been terrified of the sex, but Pansy had been a force to reckon with, even with the two of them, and she'd managed to exhaust both of them in a few hours. She'd given them exactly thirty minutes of rest before starting again, and they'd needed the next two days off of work just to recuperate.

 _Bowling_ , Fred had said, _was very therapeutic; all she had to do was picture her problems, people's heads, whatever else, on the tenpins and then knock them all over with a ball_. It had taken Pansy a few tries to get the hang of the predominantly-Muggle game, but then she started to get strikes and spares. By the end of it all, Pansy found that she had actually enjoyed the game itself. Afterwards, Fred and George had taken her out to a late-night curry place; it had become somewhat of a tradition whenever she was in an irritable mood. It was a tradition that she found she missed over the years, but she'd never been able to bring herself to go to the bowling alley alone.

"Bowling and late-night curry?" Pansy asked.

"Of course; there's no reason to break a tradition if it's a good one," George said with a grin. "You up for it?"

"Always. But I might put pants on anyway. I don't want someone trying to look up my dress again," Pansy said, Disapparating back to her bedroom before George could say anything.

George had forgotten about that. _Gods', he and Fred had been absolutely furious when they realised the Muggle was staring at Pansy and trying to look up her dress every time she went up to bowl_. They hadn't really meant to do Legilimency on the man, not really at least, but what they'd seen, heard, and felt from the man's mind had made their blood boil. They'd waited until the bowling alley had closed for the night, cornered the man once he came out and took him out drinking. When he was suitably inebriated and unconscious, Fred and George had Apparated the man to a deserted island and left him there. They'd returned two days later to find the man delirious with dehydration and hunger, and once he was unconscious again, Fred and George returned him to his apartment in the Muggle world. A few memory modifications had the man believing that he'd gone on a drinking binge for the last few days. Upon waking up, he was so violently ill that he swore off alcohol completely; courtesy of a rather soft spell, there was an added suggestion in the back of his mind that he should keep his eyes to himself.

 _Wonder what happened to him. Reckon we should pay him another visit, see if he's taken our little suggestion to heart_? Fred asked George with a grin.

 _Maybe after our date with Pansy_ , he replied pointedly.

 _Oh, good point_ , Fred said with a chuckle.

"Okay, I'm ready now. Are you all right, George?" Pansy asked, frowning at his faraway look.

"I'm fine. You look wonderful, my dear Pansy," he said with a warm smile, offering his arm to her.

Pansy smiled back at George and took his offered arm, both of them Disapparating to an Apparation point in Muggle London.

...

Blaise surprised Ginny by meeting her in the foyer alone. She was meant to be working on her sword techniques with Draco and Blaise before their date later that night.

"Is everything all right, Blaise?"

"Perfect; I just wanted to talk to you before we started our date for the evening," Blaise said, waiting until she'd removed her outer robe and put it in the coat closet before guiding Ginny into a nearby sitting room.

Ginny allowed herself to be led away, simply because she was confused and curious as to what Blaise wanted to talk to her about.

"Please, sit down. I'm not going to take long, I just wanted to explain something," Blaise said with a brief smile.

"Explain what?" Ginny asked, sitting down and looking to him.

"Draco. I know you've got some of Ginevra's memories, but I'm not sure how many you have seen or heard, or however you're receiving them, and I just wanted to tell you something I told Ginevra at the start of our relationship. As you've probably realised by now, Draco didn't have the kind of childhood that you had; one filled with love and trust. Lucius was a cold-hearted bastard, and Narcissa was terrified for Draco and their lives that she very rarely went against anything Lucius said or did.

"Until his fourth year at Hogwarts, Draco had never been hugged by someone. He almost broke Greg's arm in response, actually. He thought Greg was trying to hurt hum," Blaise added with a fond grin.

"I'm sure Greg appreciated that," Ginny muttered.

"He got over it," he replied, shrugging. "But it took Draco another three months before he let anyone get that close enough to him again. I kept touching him to try and get him used to the fact that people could touch him without hurting him, and I think he seemed to realise that.

"In the following years, I watched Draco as he watched others at night when they were off snogging in corners or going off to shag, and I think somewhere in that, Draco eventually equated shagging with love. I swear he jumped me a week after that realisation," Blaise added, chuckling. "He's gotten better since then, and doesn't always think of love and sex as being interchangeable, but as you might've noticed, Draco's a bit more ... amorous than you'd usually expect. He doesn't mean to be sexually overt all the time; most of the time he's just trying to find a way to express his love. I've been trying to help him tone it down a bit, otherwise I'm fairly sure that he would've jumped you the moment you acknowledged our existence back at Training Centre One," Blaise said with a grin.

She smiled briefly in return. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could remember Blaise telling Ginevra something similar after she'd gotten annoyed at Draco's constant sexualisation. Blaise had sat her down and explained everything softly, trying to tell her that he didn't know a hug only meant a hug. She'd left the room, sought Draco out and hugged him so tightly that he'd actually gasped for air a few moments later. That night had been the start of their sexual relationship. Once Ginevra realised that Draco hadn't been using her just for her body and sex itself, she'd been much more willing to open up to both of them, and that had led to a long night of lovemaking, _their lips kissing and hands touching and bodies moving until they reached their orgasms together_...

"All right there, Gin?" Blaise asked, interrupting her memory abruptly.

"Yeah, fine. Thanks for explaining that, Blaise. I never thought that Draco had the same childhood as I did; I doubt that your childhood was any better," Ginny added, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of his palm.

"You're right. But that's enough nostalgia for one night. Now, what do you say to working up a sweat... With swords?" Blaise added, smirking.

"Sounds good to me," Ginny quipped with a smile.

"Where've you two been? I've been up there polishing the swords like a bloody house elf for the last fifteen minutes," Draco groused.

"All of the swords in fifteen minutes?" Ginny asked in surprise.

"Gods, no. Just ours. It took me a good five minutes to find the damn polish in the first place," he replied, shaking his head.

Ginny smiled and moved to him, kissing Draco deeply, her arms wrapping around his neck as she held him closer.

"Okay, I'll clean the swords more often," he murmured dazedly as she pulled away.

She laughed delightedly, kissing him again before taking his and Blaise's hands and leading them up to the sword training area upstairs.

...

Ginny swung her sword at Blaise, sending a hex towards Draco's general vicinity. She was getting much better at sparring with them, and this was one of the few times that she felt she might actually succeed in beating both men by herself.

Draco felt the hex graze past and advanced on Ginny as she drove Blaise back, her sword bright in the well-lit room. He'd taken a sip of his still-simmering Felicis Felix potion after dinner and while it didn't have the full effects of the potion just yet, Draco still felt luckier than usual. He grinned as he dropped his sword, turned Ginny around abruptly, holding her arms so she couldn't accidentally stab him, and kissed her passionately.

"Have I ever told you how gorgeous you look when you're fighting?" he breathed against her cheek softly.

"N-no. Not lately," Ginny replied weakly, still reeling from the unexpected kiss.

"How utterly remiss of me. I shall start now," Draco murmured, pressing a light kiss to her lips this time. "You look fierce and determined, but you have such grace and power behind you that I can't help but stop and just watch you. Even now, when you were driving Blaise back like that, all I could think is 'gods, she's gorgeous' and I thank the gods that you decided to be with us. I can't possibly express in words how grateful I am that you're in our lives again, Gin. The world's so much brighter when you're around."

 _Well, she sure hadn't expected that_. Even the little voice in her head was silent at Draco's words, and Blaise looked surprised too.

Ginny let the sword drop to the floor, wrapping her arms around Draco's neck and kissing him for all her worth. Draco seemed pleasantly surprised at her response, but immediately moved his hands to hold her hips and kiss her in return. Blaise dropped his sword, figuring that the training session was over for the day and moved to join in, his lips pressing hot kisses along Ginny's neck. She moaned softly as Draco slipped a hand under her shirt, his long and warm fingers splayed across the small of her back. Blaise's hand moved to rest on her stomach and she reached back to hold him closer. Ginny almost melted when she felt them start to massage and caress her body, everything turning soft and malleable as they continued to touch her in slow precise motions. Draco's leg slid between hers and she rocked her hips against his eagerly, pulling away from his lips to kiss his jawline. Blaise moved to kiss her, his lips capturing hers easily, and Draco began to unbutton her shirt slowly. He kissed her exposed skin with each undone button, his breath hot against her cooling skin.

"Fuck, Draco!" she cried out as Draco's mouth attached to her breast.

Draco smirked, his tongue swirling around her hardened nipple as she moaned his name for more. Blaise saw what he was doing and immediately moved to capture her other nipple in his mouth, a grin on his lips. She almost screamed in pleasure when Blaise sucked hard, and held onto both men for dear life. Ginny undid their trousers with trembling fingers, a grin settling on her face when she stroked their hardening cocks in sync and received moans of lust in response. Draco moved to kiss her properly, his tongue sliding against hers. Blaise grinned against her breast and slid his hands down her sides, her body trembling in response. Draco stood back and watched as Blaise undid her pants, his thumbs hooking over her knickers and pulling them off torturously slowly. There was a glow from the tip of his wand as he did the necessary preventive spell against her stomach, and Blaise slid the tip along Ginny's skin slowly, sparks flying.

"Oh, stop teasing already," Ginny moaned, her nails digging into his shoulder.

"Now why would I do that?" Blaise asked with a smirk, his tongue flicking out against her thigh as he set his wand aside.

Draco snickered at her expression and moved behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her body flush up against his. "Blaise is a tease, you know. He likes to drag things out for as long as he can. He once spent _two hours_ giving me a foot massage and driving me absolutely insane. You know there's certain pressure points on the sole of the foot that give the same sensation as an orgasm? I was hard as a rock in the first fifteen minutes, and he just sat there, not doing a thing to help me," he murmured, his tongue tracing around her ear softly.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Ginny asked breathlessly.

" _He_ was the one who agreed to be tied up," Blaise said quickly, grinning up at her.

Ginny laughed, her fingers interlacing with Draco's as he kissed his way down her neck and shoulder. Draco fell silent as he worked his lips and tongue against her skin, smirking smugly at the breathy little noises she made in response. Ginny wasn't entirely sure what happened, if they signalled each other or it was some sort of unspoken agreement between the two men, but suddenly Draco was standing before her, guiding his hard length inside of her, and Blaise was standing behind her, pressed flush up against her body, his arms wrapped around her waist. Ginny let out a low and appreciative moan as Draco stilled, his cock buried in her and his lips mere centimetres away from hers. It had been so long since she'd had sex - an entire year, in fact - and she'd missed it.

 _No. She'd missed_ ** _them_** , she realised.

Ginny crushed her lips against Draco's, holding him to her as she began to move. He kissed her back just as fervently, his hand cupping the back of her head and his fingers lacing in her hair. Behind her, Blaise was kissing hot trails along her shoulders and gently caressing her hips with his fingertips.

It had been so long and she was so sensitive that Ginny couldn't even stop the first orgasm that came over her less than five minutes later. Neither Draco nor Blaise seemed to notice that she'd orgasmed, and continued with their merciless motions and tantalising torture.

Her second orgasm came almost half an hour later, and the cry that she let out reverberated even in her _own_ ears. Ginny was fairly sure that she'd even left bruises on Draco's shoulders from gripping him so tightly. She might have been dazed from the intensity of the orgasm, but Ginny could swear that she could _feel_ Blaise's smug grin without the need to see him.

 _They were both dragging this out! Well, she could play that game just as easily as they could_ , Ginny thought with a smirk.

...

Two hours later, Draco had begged twice and Blaise had collapsed somewhere on the mats behind them and was now snoring gently. Draco kissed Ginny's lips gently, his tongue flicking against hers before he moved to lie down beside Blaise, his arm curling around his lover gently. Ginny joined them without hesitation, cocooning herself between Draco and Blaise's bodies. A blanket was conjured and covered the three of them, Draco's final act before dropping off to sleep and snoring like the Hogwarts Express. Ginny pressed gentle kisses to both of them, her eyes closing as she drifted off to sleep between her lovers.

...

Ginny blinked her way out of sleep blearily, wondering at where she was. She soon realised that Draco and Blaise were on either side of her, all three of them naked, and spent a few minutes remembering the delicious memories from the night before. A satisfied grin spread across her face, and she contemplated waking them up in a similar fashion.

A clock chimed from the hallway, and Ginny's grin turned to a small frown as she realised that it was four-thirty and she had to get to Cloffice. She scribbled a quick note and left it lying between them before Accio'ing her clothes, changing in record time, and Apparating to her apartment. She might not have enough time to eat breakfast, but she could manage a shower and change of clothes. There was no way she was arriving to Cloffice smelling of Draco and Blaise the way she did - Claudia was like a wolfhound when it came to those two.

Fifteen minutes later - with less than ten minutes to spare - Ginny came out of her bedroom, showered, dry, and dressed to find breakfast waiting on the table for her. George gave her a broad grin and offered a cup of strong tea to her.

"Cooled it down, so you should be able to drink it without scalding yourself. I was planning on waking you up earlier for this, but you weren't home. I hope you were safe," George said.

Spluttering on her tea, Ginny glared at him. "I've been taking all of the necessary potions, and spells were done. Happy now, Mother?"

"Not until you've eaten something. Now sit down and eat something before you're really late."

"Why all this, anyway? Did I miss a special occasion or something?"

"I'm trying to decide on the newest confectionary or baked good for the shop. They're not spelled, don't worry... It's just that there's only so many Canary Creams I can sell before they become old news, and I figured no one would suspect breakfast goods."

"Like what, Tiger Toast?" Ginny asked, grinning as she bit into her own piece of toast.

"No. We want to make kids laugh and pull pranks on each other, not **eat** each other. That would involve too much paperwork and possibly a holding cell in Azkaban."

"Hmm, all right. Baboon bacon?"

"Interesting and possibly terrifying... I'll see what I can do," George said, grinning. "Now get going or you'll be late."

Ginny nodded and drank the last of her tea in one large gulp. "Lovely breakfast, dearest brother. Thanks. See you tonight!"

"See you," George said with a nod as she Apparated.

With a sigh, he began to clear the dishes. Halfway through, George stopped and sat at the dining table, sobbing with his head in his hands.

Ginny called out a quick hello to the receptionist at _The Quibbler_ , and all but ran down to her office. She had exactly one minute to get to Cloffice before she was late. Ginny slammed the door shut, trying to pull her scarf off at the same time, and was so preoccupied with the task that she didn't realise she wasn't the only one in her office until it was too late.

The men in black robes stepped forward, one taking ahold of her arm and the other reaching for her free arm. Ginny pulled back, elbowing the man behind her quickly. He gasped in pain, but didn't let go of her. The other man moved forward again, his wand drawn. Ginny finally pulled her scarf off, hitting him in the face with it and stinging his eyes with the decorative threads at the end. He made a noise of pain, and the other man was now gripping her arm even tighter. Ginny tried to move around to get out of his grip, but all she managed to do was get caught by both arms instead. She made a noise of frustration, bringing her knee up to connect with his groin. He howled, finally letting go of her arms. There was a noise behind her, and Ginny spun around, her leg extended and connecting with the second man's chest. He flew backwards and landed in a heap by the fireplace.

 _Not bad for a confined space_ , the voice in her head muttered.

Ginny let out a sigh of relief and opened her door to get the receptionist to call the Ministry and Aurors. Another two men in black muscled their way into her office, and this time there was no way to defend herself. She was hexed, bound and gagged in under a second without a chance to react, and Ginny screamed against the gag uselessly, her arms and legs betraying her and unable to move at all. One of the men smiled cruelly and produced a white rectangle of gauze. Ginny could tell that it was chloroform from the smell alone, and tried to struggle or scream out again.

 _People were walking straight past her office - how were they not seeing this_?!

 _Illusion spell, probably. Or even a See-me-not. It's easier for people to get past if they're trying, but in a place like this, who'd expect a See-me-not spell_?

Ginny didn't have time to respond, her vision going cloudy as the chloroform began to work. Her eyes closed, the world darkened, and when the spell was taken off her body a minute later, Ginny collapsed completely into the waiting arms of the man in black.

...

End of the twenty-ninth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter features explicit torture scenes.

Ginny blinked her way to consciousness, her head pounding and throat raw. She groaned as she sat up, trying to remember what she'd done to make her head feel that way. Realising that she wasn't actually at home or in her bed, Ginny went completely still, memories assaulting her mind immediately.

 _Right. She'd been kidnapped. Well, that kind of ruined the afterglow she'd had after having sex with Draco and Blaise. Ooh, they were going to be furious when they found out that she'd been kidnapped! Whoever had taken her were definitely going to regret it_ , Ginny thought smugly.

_Really? That's really what you think? Not a plan of escape or even trying to figure out where you are, but that the people who've taken you are going to be_ **_sorry?!_ ** _How utterly pathetic!_

_Well, what do you suggest I do_?

 ** _Anything!_** _You're already thinking as if you're just going to have to sit here and do nothing but wait to be rescued! You've been kidnapped in_ ** _broad daylight_** _by people who obviously knew what they were doing! They fought against you, and are obviously not above beating a woman. You're not living in a fairytale, now stop acting like a Princess_!

Ginny didn't get a chance to reply. Her cell door opened, and two men made their way into the room, both armed with large guns, and one carrying a black fabric bag. The other one hexed and bound her before she could respond to their presence, and the black bag was shoved over her head, the drawstring pulled tight around her neck. She was pulled to her feet roughly and pushed out of the cell.

 _Left turn, down the hall for about fifteen steps. Right turn, wait for a door to be opened. Go inside, take four steps forward. Shoved down onto the ground. Bright room - sunlight, candles, or artificial light_? The thoughts seemed to take over Ginny's mind, desperately trying to form some sort of plan of escape, or at the very least, a map of the place she'd been taken to.

The bag was pulled off her head, and Ginny was disappointed to see that the light was coming from a large light being shone directly on her. The room had no windows, and the only door was the one guarded by two wizards. The men that had brought her inside stood on either side of her, one pointing a gun at her temple, and the other doing the same with his wand.

"What do you want with me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

There was no answer, but a newspaper was thrown in front of her. The front page showed that it was still Monday, so Ginny knew that she hadn't been unconscious for a full day.

"Hold the paper up. Read from the cards," one kidnapper said.

Ginny squinted, trying to see where the cards were. She saw them a second later, large board rectangles with words nestled between a Muggle camera and a magical recording device. She was nudged sharply with the gun, the metal cold against her skin.

"Can you turn the light down? I can't read the cards."

Again, there was no response, but the light was moved slightly and the words became clearer on the cards. _I, Jenny Westley, have been kidnapped. I am being treated fairly for now. If their demands aren't met, I will be killed_.

 _Seems like the usual kidnapping routine_ , the little voice in her head commented.

 _I'm not even going to ask how you know that. Who the hell is Jenny Westley_? Ginny asked, frowning.

 _You mean you don't recognise the name_?

A memory of Prague came to her mind, a time when Ginevra had interrogated Kelly, a witch who had information about _La Révolution_. She'd gone by an alias in Prague: Jenny Westley.

 _Well, fuck_.

"Start reading!"

This time the wand was jabbed at her, and Ginny held back a noise of irritation as she began to read the cue cards.

Her video could have been completed in fifteen minutes, but Ginny messed it up twice. She'd done so on purpose, trying to listen to the outside world and get more information on the people who had kidnapped her. It was obvious that they weren't from _La Révolution_ , as they weren't French, but Ginny still had yet to work out who they did work for. The man with the gun seemed to get irritated faster than his wanded counterpart, growling more than once for her to _hurry up, get it right this time, and stop stammering already_.

She finally finished reciting the message, and when her kidnappers seemed satisfied, the bag was placed over her head again and she was pulled out of the small room. From the map that was forming in her mind, Ginny came to the conclusion that they weren't in a place that was very big - probably a house. There were no outside sounds that she could focus on in particular. In fact, it seemed that there were no sounds coming from the outside world at all - she hadn't heard a bird or even the wind in trees. _Maybe they'd spelled the house to stop the noise from coming inside_? she thought to herself.

Ginny was stopped in front of a door - but not the one to her cell, she realised belatedly. They'd walked too far for that. The door opened and she was pushed through, the bag taken off of her head. She was in a small office, facing a suited man. He was leaning against the desk and held a gun in one hand and his wand in the other.

"What do you want from me?" Ginny asked, keeping her eyes on the man, trying to look for any discerning features that she could use to find him later.

"I want to know what you know," he replied simply, his tone sounding as though he was asking a very simple request. "You were sent an owl, Jenny Westley, and I want to know what it said."

"What kind of owl? I receive a lot of information via owl, you know."

"Early on Saturday morning. I'm sure it would have been unforgettable," the man said with a slight smile. "It wasn't a lot of information, but it is important to me and those that have employed me."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," Ginny replied, frowning.

"Now, listen to me, Jenny. This can be done the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you tell me what you know, and I let you go. The hard way is I torture you to find out what you know."

Ginny tried not to scoff at his clichéd words. She'd seen his face, there was no way he was letting her go. She said as much, putting enough of a tremble in her voice to sound scared.

"I didn't say that I would be letting you go without memory modifications, did I?" the man asked with a sneer.

"No. But either way, I can't help. I truly have no idea what you're talking about," she replied.

The man sighed, shook his head as if he was disappointed in her, and then nodded to the two men that had dragged her in. As they were still at a safe distance, the wanded man hexed her so she couldn't defend herself, and both of them moved forward to grab her arms and take her back out of the office once more.

Ginny was shoved into the small cell and bound before the bag was pulled off her head roughly. The two men left her cell, only undoing the hex and her binds once the door was closed and locked firmly. She sat on the edge of the straw-filled mattress, rubbing her raw wrists tenderly as she tried to think of some way to get out. From the message that she'd read, Ginny concluded that these people were professionals and had done this sort of thing before. While they might not work directly for _La Revolution_ , they might have been employed by them or someone connected to them. 

The slit in the door opened and a hex was sent into the cell before she could react. Her eyes closed against her will and Ginny fell into a black sleep, her body collapsing on the mattress awkwardly. Her body was levitated out of the room and down the hall.

Ginny was woken up with a spell, a rush of air leaving her in a gasp. A large tub of water was sitting on the ground in front of her, but Ginny doubted that they were going to bathe her.

"Tell us where it is!" one man demanded, stepping forward to grab her hair roughly, pulling back until she let out a gasp of pain.

"What? I don't know where it is!" she replied.

"We know that you were sent an owl with the location. Now, where is it?" the man asked.

"I don't know what-"

She was pulled off the chair abruptly and her head was pushed under the water, the man holding it down. Ginny tried to keep calm, tried to tell herself that it was just like swimming. _She was just trying to see how long she could hold her breath under water_ , she told herself. It didn't work very well, as she'd been pushed under water mid-sentence. Her lungs started to burn from a lack of oxygen and she tried to breathe, inhaling water instead. Her head was pulled out of the water, but before she could do more than gasp once for air, Ginny's head was shoved into the tub again. Bubbles rose to the surface as she tried to breathe - or scream, she wasn't quite sure - and she spluttered when her head was pulled out of the tub again.

"Are you ready to answer the question now?" one man sneered, his grip on her hair tightening.

"No, I don't think so. Unfortunately, the answer wasn't written on the bottom of the tub," Ginny said with a sarcastic smile.

"Wrong answer," he hissed.

Ginny took a deep breath, expecting to be shoved into the water again, but instead he simply held onto her hair again and nodded to his partner. The other man gave a smile, one that sent goosebumps up Ginny's arms, and pointed his wand at her. The Cruciatus Curse was said a moment later, and she screamed as the unexpected bout of pain filled every inch of her body. She could feel her blood boiling, and the water that was running off her face did little to help. In fact, every drop of water felt like a large ball of hail, each one slamming against her skin and bruising her. Ginny clenched her hands so tightly that her nails almost pierced her palms. She vaguely heard the man holding her by the hair say something to the wanded one, and the pain lessened slowly. Her chest heaved as she tried to gather oxygen into her body.

"Where is it?" the man asked, twisting his grip in her hair and pulling back sharply.

"Bloody hell," she said in a hiss, the sharp movement surprisingly painful. "I don't know!"

Ginny's head was pulled back so far that she could actually see the ceiling for a moment. Then she was thrust forward, her forehead smashing into the side of the tub. Her head spun, stars and dots of light flashing before her eyes, and she could smell and feel the blood running down her face. Ginny's head was shoved into the tub again, and she could see bloodied swirls of red before her eyes. Pulled out once more, she was hexed, bounds redone, and the bag replaced over her head. She could feel her hair sticking to her forehead with both the water and blood, and she knew that it was going to be a pain to clean later.

She was shoved into her cell once more. When the hex and binds were undone, Ginny rested on the straw mattress, pressing her hand to her bleeding forehead. She felt dizzy and out of sorts, her vision swimming and making the room double. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ginny knew that head wounds were bad for bleeding, but in all likelihood, the cut wouldn't be too bad.

Ginny fought the wave of nausea that passed over her and closed her eyes, hoping that she was right about the wound being small, even as she fell into a fitful sleep.

...

A bucket of ice-cold water was thrown on her, and Ginny sat up with a jolt of surprise, her body already covered in goosebumps from the water. She almost told George off for throwing a bucket of water on her, but realised in time that she was still a prisoner and George wasn't there. She was alone, and there was no bucket in sight, so her captors had probably used a spell to complete the deed.

She sighed softly, trying to rub her arms and legs to keep from shivering. Ginny noticed that dry blood was smearing off of her hand and onto her legs, and carefully touched her forehead. The wound seemed to be healing, and she was pleased to find that the wound itself really was as small as she thought it would have been.

"You've been asleep for a while there, Jenny. Didn't think you were going to wake up," a man said through the slit in the door.

"How long's a while?" she muttered in response, even as her stomach gurgled hungrily.

"Two days. Today's Wednesday. Midday, in fact," he replied helpfully.

"Can I get something to eat? Or drink, at least?"

There was no answer, and the slit was closed abruptly. She heard footsteps going away, but as it was still silent almost five minutes later, Ginny doubted that he would be back any time soon with a menu.

Ginny tried to keep track of time by counting, but her rumbling stomach and pounding head distracted her before she could get past ten minutes each time. Just as Ginny started to wonder what straw tasted like, the slit opened in the door again and she was Stunned. The door opened and a tray with bread and water was pushed inside. When the hex was removed, Ginny quickly scrambled off the bed to get to the food. She'd already taken a mouthful of water when she realised that it tasted _wrong_. She frowned at the goblet, taking care not to swallow what was in her mouth as she sniffed at the liquid. _Veritaserum_ , Ginny realised, quickly spitting the water out and hoping that whatever she'd accidentally consumed wouldn't be enough for the truth serum to work.

A sound came from the door and Ginny looked up to see one of her captors watching her through the slot. They had seen her spit the Veritaserum out and now knew that she could identify the potion through taste and smell alone. She doubted that the knowledge would make them believe that she wasn't really Jenny Westley. _Shit_.

The slot closed abruptly, and despite hearing the retreating footsteps, Ginny was still wary about the bread. Just because they weren't going to watch her eat it didn't mean that nothing had been added to the bread too. She sniffed at it gingerly, keeping her eyes on the door as she took a small bite. It didn't taste wrong as the water had so she swallowed. Nothing happened immediately, but there were potions that were odourless and tasteless - not to mention ones that took a while to kick in - so Ginny kept herself from wolfing the whole thing down. She counted her breaths, waiting exactly five and a half minutes to see if it did anything. She could tell a lie, stand up and walk around without falling over, she didn't see any visions or illusions, and her body seemed free of sudden boils and warts. A bigger bite and smaller wait showed the same thing: absolutely nothing. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief and ate the rest of the bread without waiting to see if it affected her.

She'd barely finished swallowing - her mind too focused on the food to concentrate on anything else wholly - when the door burst open. Ginny managed to scream as they dragged her to her feet, but was quickly silenced with a fist to her jaw. Her face exploded with pain and she tried not to let them see how hurt she was. _Her pain would probably please them, the bastards_.

The man that had punched her drew his arm back again, but this time he connected directly with her stomach. Ginny doubled over, throwing up the little that she'd just eaten. She was thrown to the far side of the room, hexed for good measure, and by the time she was able to right herself, Ginny saw that they were already gone.

...

Receiving a ration of bread was the only way Ginny could keep track of time. There was a sort of routine to it: she would receive the bread and water (they'd finally stopped drugging the water with Veritaserum), and about three-hundred breaths later (she'd timed herself once and could breathe ten times in one minute), Ginny would be interrogated. Her captors would come into the room after hexing her (after working out their routine, she tried to escape five times, but she always seemed to run into someone just when she thought she was finally free, and now they always hexed her first), and when they were sure she couldn't move (a sixth attempt had come from pretending to be hexed; it had almost worked), they would come into her cell and drag her out to the interrogation room for the information she'd received from the owl.

They believed that she wasn't Jenny Westley now, but it seemed that her identity came second to this information. Either way, Ginny wasn't telling them anything. She fought against the Veritaserum they poured down her throat, even going so far as to dig holes into her thighs with her own fingernails just so she could focus on the pain instead of the truth that was trying to seep out of her lips. They hexed her and drugged her, but somehow Ginny kept on saying that she had no idea what they were talking about. She felt like a broken wireless, but she refused to betray Pansy, or the Cloffice. Ginny didn't even allow herself to think of anything other than ' _I don't know_ ' from the moment they slid slot open and gave her the bread roll each day. The monotony of her own thoughts made sure that no matter what they asked, the answer would always be the same: _I don't know_.

She'd tried to escape again only last week by stabbing at her captors' eyes with the straw from her makeshift bed, temporarily blinding them since it wasn't exactly stiff anymore. Ginny was so skinny that she could slide her hands out from the rope binds they'd put her in, and she'd made it as far as the tenth corridor down. Her bed had been taken away after that, and she was sleeping on the floor now.

The slot opened and Ginny was hexed immediately. One of her guards was slightly kinder; he at least warned her that he was about to hex her. She didn't know if they were playing _good guard, bad guard_ , but she didn't allow herself to get attached. Her guard seemed satisfied that she wouldn't move and then opened the door, sliding the bread roll across the floor. A goblet of water appeared next to it. The goblet would be stuck to the ground, so she couldn't use it as a weapon. Ginny knew that she would have a hell of a time trying to lick the last of the water out, just as she always did. The metal door closed and the hex removed a few moments later.

Ginny looked at the bread roll for a long moment. It was her sixtieth bread roll. She'd been a hostage for at least sixty days, not including the time where she'd passed out for a day or two at a time. Her hunger pains weren't the reason her stomach twisted then, and if she wasn't so hungry, Ginny might have refused to eat the bread at all. But she knew that if she didn't, then she wouldn't get anything the next day either. That had happened once and once only.

She snatched the bread roll and started to chew slowly, savouring each bite and making sure that they hadn't started drugging her food again. Ginny wondered if anyone was looking for her anymore, or if they'd stopped (and secretly, she wondered if anyone had even bothered looking for her in the first place). She'd been in here for two whole months _at least_ , and in that time she hadn't heard a thing about a rescue attempt. Her captors told her that no one cared about her, and even if they did, this place was Unplottable and she'd never be found. Ginny was starting to believe them.

...

Ginny woke up with a sense of clarity and the realisation that today would be her hundredth bread roll. She heard footsteps coming up the corridor and stilled immediately. She frowned slightly on hearing a familiar voice crying out, telling them to _stop, not to hurt him, he hadn't done anything_! Ginny stood up and went to the door. The nicer guard sometimes left the slot open for her so she could see out, and she looked out now to see him being dragged into the cell across from hers. The door was left open as he was beaten and she watched as his former fellow guard swung at his head with a heavy lead baton. She knew the feeling well, her hand going to one of the many bruised bumps on her skull.

When they were finished, they left the cell, leaving their former colleague to bleed on the floor. The door was shut abruptly, and as they passed, the guard realised that Ginny's door slot was open and slammed it shut again.

Her hundredth bread roll and goblet of water came some time later. Ginny ate the bread quickly and when she was down to the last few drops of water in her goblet, she ripped off some of her shirt and dipped it inside. When the last drops of water were soaked up, she picked out the piece of fabric, stuck it in her mouth and began to suck the water from it. It probably wasn't healthy, but it was the only way she was able to get those last few drops out, and Ginny knew that she needed every drop of water that she could get.

"Hey, Jenny," a voice called: the guard in the cell opposite.

She almost choked on her shirt, forgetting that he was there. Ginny made her way to the door, pushing the slot as hard as she could to try and see to the cell across from her. The slot didn't move as far as it used to, and she couldn't see anything apart from bricks.

"Jenny, are you all right?" the guard asked.

"Not really," she replied; the sarcasm felt raw and wrong in her throat and she felt bad for a split second.

The guard made a chuckling sort of noise. "Dumb question. Did you get your food?"

"Yes, you?" Ginny asked.

"Yes. I'm William, by the way," he introduced.

"Oh." Ginny almost told him that her brother was called William too, but held the words in.

"Oh?" he echoed her, sounding curious as to why she would respond that way.

"Nothing, William."

"Call me Will."

Ginny didn't reply. She was still thirsty and there were probably a few more drops of water in the goblet.

...

One hundred and fifteen rolls. Will was surprisingly good company, considering he used to be one of her guards. He managed to stay cheerful despite his beatings, and he kept talking after hers to give her something to listen to. He checked up on her by knocking a pattern on his door. If she didn't respond, then Will would scream himself hoarse until she made a noise to let him know that she was still alive.

Ginny was thrown back into her cell and she dragged herself over to the door, leaning her back against the cool metal and keeping her fist closed as she tapped out a tuneless rhythm to Will. They were both silent for a long time - fifty breaths felt longer than five minutes, at least - and Ginny focused on Will when she heard him talking. Apparently, she hadn't tapped out a rhythm to respond to his one.

"So if your name's not really Jenny, what is it?" Will asked.

"I don't know," she mumbled, her mind still set to the broken wireless from her interrogation.

Before he could ask anything else, footsteps started down the corridor. These were loud and driven, like they usually were before a beating or interrogation, but they'd already interrogated her today. Ginny blinked dazedly when the slot was opened above her, and she was instructed to stand. She couldn't do it, her body not responding to the command, so they used the Imperius Curse on her instead. The door was opened, and Ginny could see that they'd opened Will's door too. They dragged Will out by the hair and threw him on the ground in front of her. She was wary about what they would make her do. She didn't have the strength to fight the Imperius Curse, but they knew from experience that she could make herself continue saying 'I don't know', no matter how exhausted she was and hadn't tried Veritaserum since.

"We need that information, Jenny. If we don't get it, then we'll kill your friend... Actually, we'll make **you** kill him," the man sneered, holding a knife out to her.

Ginny was forced to take the knife against her will, and there was a surge of adrenaline as she held it high. She tried to fight past the spell, to use the knife on them instead, but she was too exhausted. Her head ached from where the straps had been tightened, and there were burn marks on her wrists and ankles from where she'd thrashed against the branding iron. They had used a white-hot iron on her, and Ginny was fairly sure that the brand would be etched on her bones themselves. She still had no idea what it said, but there were three burns marked onto her shoulder and legs. If it wasn't for the spell keeping her upright, Ginny would have already collapsed into a heap long ago.

The urge to bring the knife down onto Will was increasing, more power put into the spell when she didn't give them the location. Ginny tried to start with her broken wireless recording of ' _I don't know_ ', but Will was looking up at her in terror, beads of sweat rolling down his face as he mouthed ' _please, don't kill me_ ' and for a split second, she saw her actual brother kneeling before her. Will was back in the next breath, but Ginny knew that she couldn't kill him anymore than she could one of her actual brothers.

"49.20654, 2.71493," she said woodenly.

The man seemed surprised at her answer, but then he smiled and took the knife from her. She was shoved back into the cell, the Imperius Curse keeping her from falling completely. Ginny watched as Will stood and calmly brushed himself off, shaking hands with the men around him.

 _Well, she was glad that she'd lied about the coordinates now. Bastard, he was nothing like her brothers_.

The door was slammed shut and the spell was removed. Ginny fell to the ground immediately, her legs not strong enough to hold her with the brand marks burnt on her. She wondered how long it would take them to realise that she'd given them the wrong information. _Maybe they'd come back and kill her_? At this point, it wasn't an unwelcome thought.

Ginny saw a flickering behind her and struggled to move so she could face whatever it was. She frowned when she saw that the cell wall - they very wall that she'd gone over _six times_ in the beginning to look for weaknesses - was disappearing, flickering between solid and transparent. Then, it disappeared completely and she was faced with something that she'd never expected to see: her group from Cloffice.

...

Morrigan was quiet for once, seeing the look of confusion spread across Ginny's face, and tried to wipe away her tears before anyone else noticed. They'd all gone through the same torture, each of them kidnapped at the same time as Ginny and placed in their own cells. The only difference is that they'd all broken. They'd each received an owl with a location on it, and that was the information that their kidnappers wanted from them. Claudia had given the information to them in a day, Morrigan had lasted three, and Jordan had lasted seven. But Ginny... She had lasted a total of twenty-five days, and they'd had to watch every minute of it.

The captors had used various forms of psychological pressure tactics to make them believe that more time was passing than it actually had. Ginny used the bread rolls to keep track of the days; Morrigan had kept count of her supposed days by the sunrise they'd composed for her three times a day. She thought that she'd lasted for over a week.

Morrigan didn't care what anyone thought and had turned to cry on Jordan's shoulder when they branded Ginny like an animal. They weren't allowed to stop this, Unbreakable Vows shining on their arms that made sure of that, but they were allowed to leave at any time without retribution. Morrigan couldn't make herself go through with leaving though; she felt as though she _had_ to watch every second that her friend was being put through this torture because she hadn't been strong enough to last through her own.

Ginny was put to sleep with a relatively simple spell when she tried to fight back, thinking this was a test or another round of torture. Morrigan gripped Jordan's hand as Ginny was carried past on a stretcher, seeing her friend's broken and bruised body. She'd wasted away, her skin was covered with more than dirt and blood, her lips dry, cracked and still bleeding, and her nails had been torn from her fingers by both her captors and what she'd done trying to scratch a hole in the wall.

George was waiting at the door already, an Unbreakable Vow on his arm as well, and Morrigan could tell by the look in his eyes that he'd been hit with at least three spells to help calm him down. Despite the spells, he still began to cry, and everyone was silent as Pansy took him by the arm and gently guided him to the hospital after Ginny's stretcher.

Morrigan realised that her fingernails were digging into Jordan's hand, but she couldn't relax her grip. She knew that Ginny would be all right by Monday - they'd fixed everything that they had done to her, after all - but she couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for the mental trauma to be healed too.

"Come on, let's go home. Draco and Blaise are in there as well, so we'll come back later when there's a bit more room in Ginny's hospital room," Jordan said.

Morrigan nodded, seeing the bags under his eyes before Apparating them away. Despite being healed on the outside, she found it was still difficult to sleep. Jordan had the same trouble, and they'd started to fall asleep in each other's arms just to ward off the nightmares.

It was late already, neither one felt like eating, and they were both silent as they undressed for bed. Once under the blankets, Morrigan pulled Jordan close and kissed him softly. He kissed her back, a hint of desperation in it. He needed to know that she was real, that she wasn't just a figment of his imagination again. They pulled away when their lungs burned for air, and she moved closer still, wrapping her arms around Jordan's body carefully.

"Thank you for staying with me, Jordan."

"Thank you for being real, Morrigan," he murmured in response, pressing a kiss to her forehead and wrapping his arms around her too.

As Morrigan closed her eyes to sleep, she truly hoped that Ginny could find the same sort of peace with Draco and Blaise as she did with Jordan. It was the only way to get through this with any sort of sanity still intact.

 

...

End of the thirtieth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	31. Chapter 31

Ginny woke up with a scream, the brand marks burning on her skin. George was in her room in an instant, hugging her to his body gently. She clung to him, her chest heaving as she tried to remind herself that it had only been a test. It had been a test of her loyalty, of her ability to survive torture, and to discover her weaknesses and strengths. The brand marks were gone, she'd been given a number of potions to heal and recuperate, and she was almost back at her normal weight.

Pansy had come to her in the hospital to explain exactly why she'd been tested in that way. It was one of the final tests for Cloffice, to ensure that recruits wouldn't betray them or reveal any information they received. Any job she was given within Cloffice may not necessarily be safe - the work they did was fraught with more danger than simply being discovered - and Pansy's own scars were a testament to the things their enemies and rivals would do in order to get information from Cloffice operatives. It was one of the few times Ginny had seen Pansy wear a sleeveless shirt.

Of course, the month at Training Centre Four wasn't over yet. As Ginny had lasted longer than most new recruits did, Pansy had informed them that they would all be staying for an extra two weeks to finish their training. If they didn't come in on Monday, Pansy would presume that they were quitting and their memories would be altered, with or without their permission. (She did state that the contract they signed before training allowed them to do this, courtesy of some careful and vague wording.) Ginny was curious to find out exactly what the hell they would be learning - not to mention what they would be mentally fit to learn - after being tortured.

"I'll get a dreamless potion for you," George offered quietly, moving to stand.

She shook her head, getting out of bed so she could fix her tangled sheets. "I don't want one."

"Gin, you need to have a proper night's rest. You've woken up with a nightmare every night since you came home four days ago."

"I know that!" she snapped. "I don't want a potion; it reminds me of the things they shoved down my throat every day."

He was quiet for a moment, but nodded in understanding. George had gone through the torture session too. "All right. Can I get anything else for you then?"

Ginny shook her head, but still couldn't bring herself to look at him. She let him hug and hold her after a nightmare for both of their sakes, but apart from interactions like this, she'd barely spoken to George since returning home. She ignored Draco and Blaise's firecalls, returned their owls unopened, and hadn't left her room for more than the basic necessities. Ginny refused to go back to the Burrow. She'd left without telling her parents the last time she'd gone home, and knew that Molly wouldn't leave her alone until she had an explanation this time.

George had cooked a roast for her a few nights ago, a way to apologise perhaps, but the moment she'd smelled the cooked meat, Ginny had run to the bathroom and thrown up, her body retching and dry heaving. It had smelled just like her own flesh, burning and sizzling under the white-hot brand. She had taken a few roast vegetables to her room to eat something, her hands trembling as she picked at the food. Ginny didn't blame George since he didn't know - she hadn't told George what she'd gone through, not wanting to relive it any more than she already had.

George gave her a brief hug and left the room again, closing the door behind him. Ginny slid back into bed, closing her eyes and hoping that she would be able to sleep for more than two hours this time.

...

"You look as bad as I feel," Morrigan muttered. "How are you feeling?"

"Still pretty fucked up, honestly," Ginny said with a sigh, running her hand over her face. "How about you?"

"About the same. Jordan's helping me through it. I probably wouldn't have turned up today if it wasn't for him," she admitted, looking over to him with a brief smile. "Have you talked to Draco and Blaise yet? They could help you too, you know," Morrigan said, her tone lowering as Claudia stepped out of the fireplace.

"I don't want to be around them right now," she replied tersely.

Morrigan nodded and fell silent for a few seconds as they headed down to their class, Claudia walking a few metres ahead and Jordan taking hold of Morrigan's hand for both of their sakes.

"It wasn't time-specific, you know," Morrigan said to Ginny before they went inside the room.

"What wasn't?" she asked in confusion, frowning at her.

"The Unbreakable Vow we made. There was no time limit to it, and I can still feel it under my skin. George's Vow has never shown on his arm before, and I know that he didn't get it done recently because Pansy was in that room for the entire time. I think the George's Vow mark returned when it looked like he was going to break it," Morrigan said.

"Pansy's not the only one who can do Unbreakable Vows," Ginny pointed out.

"True, but do you really think George would make one with anyone other than you or her?" she replied; George's relationship with Pansy wasn't exactly a national secret.

Ginny was silent, knowing Morrigan was probably right. Despite his joking personality, George rarely trusted people, and if he made an Unbreakable Vow, it wouldn't be with some back-alley witch or wizard. Unable to think of an answer, Ginny simply went into the classroom for their first lesson. Morrigan and Jordan followed her quietly, and they sat on the chairs that had been provided.

Ginny flexed her toes slightly and rotated her shoulders while they waited. The brands had been removed and healed along with everything else that had been done to her - she couldn't even see a white mark where the brands had once been - but she could still feel them. One of the healers had said something about phantom pain and how it was normal, but Ginny thought it was anything but normal. Every morning after she had finished her shower, she simply stood in front of the mirror and looked at her body. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there was a nagging feeling that this was all just another test; if she stared long enough, the brand marks, bruises, and blood would all return - that was another reason for her return to Cloffice today. She wanted to make sure that it was real, that she wasn't in some ongoing illusion that made her believe it had all been a test.

The door opened and their teacher came into the room. Ginny leapt out of her chair, her wand in her hand immediately. She dug the tip into William's throat painfully. Behind her Morrigan had frozen on her chair, Jordan was standing up, and Claudia was weeping. They had all had some sort of interaction with William during their test, whether as a kidnapper, torturer, or guard.

"Good morning, Ginevra," he said cheerfully, smiling at her as if they were old friends and she didn't have her wand on his throat.

The Killing Curse bubbled up from inside her, and Ginny was very tempted to say it, the words like a poison on her tongue, but she kept her mouth clammed shut. She didn't want to go to Azkaban over this bastard.

"Well? If you're not going to kill or hex me, take your seat and we'll get started."

The Bat Bogey Hex wasn't quite as satisfying, but Ginny supposed it would have to do. She sat down on her seat and watched him try to get the bats away unsuccessfully. Jordan sat down as well, taking Morrigan's hand. No one moved to help William.

...

"Please, Pans, just try to talk to her. You were the only one that got through to Gin last time," George added, pleading now.

"Ginevra and I had been friends for longer then. I doubt she'd appreciate me using the same method as last time," Pansy drawled, thinking of the Firewhisky-infused weekend they'd had the last time Ginevra had gone through Training Centre Four.

"Please, Pansy. I can't think of anything else to do. She won't even go to visit Fred," George said, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of his sister's room.

Pansy sighed softly and after a long moment of George's puppy dog eyes, she finally nodded. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief and opened the grate before moving back so she could come through. Before she stepped into the fireplace, Pansy turned away and George heard bottles clinking through the grate. _Probably raiding her liquor drawer in case Gin changed her mind_ , he mused. Pansy seemed satisfied and turned back to the fireplace, stepping through the green flames a moment later.

"Thank you, Pansy," George said, kissing her softly.

"You're welcome. Now, get out of here for the night," she instructed firmly, a slight grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

"All right. Ask no questions, right?" George said with a chuckle.

"Exactly. Good night, George."

"Good night, Pansy," he said, bowing briefly.

He Apparated with a small bang and Pansy headed towards Ginevra's bedroom. She knocked on the door three times, waiting for an answer.

"For the hundredth time, no, I don't want to visit Fred, George. Just leave me alone!" Ginny yelled.

"I'd usually tell you not to exaggerate, but it is George, and he's nothing but persistent," Pansy said through the door, smirking.

Ginny opened the door a crack, frowning out at Pansy. "What are you doing here?"

Pansy tried not to feel hurt at the tone Ginevra was using with her; she never used to greet her like this before. She supposed that it was her fault as much as Ginevra's.

"George thinks I'll be able to get through to you again. I don't have the same sort of faith, so I brought alcohol," Pansy said, forcing herself to smile as she held up the bottle of Firewhisky.

"No, thanks anyway," Ginny said, going to close the door.

"I also brought this," Pansy added, holding up a small vial.

Ginny recognised the vial of Veritaserum immediately, her eyes widening and her stomach churning violently. She backed away slowly, taking a few tries to open her mouth and actually speak. "I don't care what you do, I'm **not** taking that."

"It's not for you, Ginevra. It's for me. I'll take it and you can ask me whatever you want," Pansy said.

Ginny stopped backing away and frowned at her. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

"Because as much as I don't like to admit it - even to myself - I do like having you as a friend, and I don't want you hating me over this. I've been miserable without you over this last year."

"You mean without George," Ginny said, folding her arms.

"He's part of it, yes, but in a very different way. Your friendship meant more to me than even I realised, and you know how I pride myself on knowing my own emotions."

Ginny nodded briefly, remembering Pansy stating that on more than one occasion. "I don't want that stuff in here. We can go to the lounge room."

Pansy gave a nod in understanding and moved back, waiting for Ginny to join her. Ginny left her bedroom reluctantly, a little annoyed that Pansy had seen through her semi-lie. She'd planned on closing the door on her as soon as Pansy had left for the lounge room.

 _She knows you better than that_ , the little voice said with a snort. _You wouldn't have left her if the situation were reversed_.

Ginny ignored the voice - it hadn't been there for her after the first few days of Training Centre Four, and she didn't want to hear it now either. She headed to the kitchen to get two goblets - she wasn't about to let good Firewhisky go to waste, and Ginny knew how horrible Veritaserum tasted straight - and then went to the lounge room where Pansy was waiting.

They were both silent as Ginny poured the Firewhisky and added three drops of Veritaserum to one goblet, watching the liquid bubble slightly before handing it to Pansy. She gave her a small smile and mocking salute with the goblet before drinking it down in a long gulp.

"Ugh, that still tastes horrible," she groaned.

"Yes, I know it does," Ginny muttered. "Lie down, you might as well be comfortable," she said, though a little reluctantly.

Pansy attempted to smile, but her body was already being affected by the Veritaserum and it probably came out more like a lopsided sneer. She moved to lie down on the couch properly and waited for the first question.

"Why would you include William in our test when he's our teacher?" Ginny asked, not willing to beat around the bush with this time she'd been given.

"All of your teachers have watched your tests. William is more hands-on, and likes to see the strength of the recruits with his own eyes."

"Why did you have to break us? Why not stop after the first week if we didn't break?"

"Because everyone breaks. Nearly, at least. Dennis and Neville didn't break, actually, but they both had extenuating circumstances with the former's previous torture and the latter's desire to be like his parents," Pansy said truthfully. "We have to break you to know your weaknesses. If we don't know your weaknesses, then we can't build up your strengths against them."

"You know I lied about the location of St. Anne's island though?"

"Yes, of course."

"What would have happened if my captors had found out?" Ginny asked curiously.

"In a real life situation, they might have killed you. In the Cloffice environment, they would have continued with your torture until they had the real answer from you. It would not have been pretty," Pansy added.

"Okay, but I still didn't break; why did it stop then?"

"Because you gave them an answer. You didn't break completely, but you showed that you were willing to talk if someone you knew was threatened. If William had been replaced with a family member, a friend - or even Draco or Blaise - then you would have given the proper answer."

Ginny took a moment to process her answer and nodded reluctantly. "What really happened when you were captured by the enemy before you became Director for Cloffice? Why were you kidnapped in the first place?"

"My mission was regarding the location of an artefact that Cloffice wanted. I was meant to observe only and report back to Cloffice. The intelligence said that it was guarded and protected by both Death Eaters as well as numerous spells. The Death Eaters had hold of an important artefact, one that could have influenced their sentence in any future trial or negotiation with the Ministry. My observation was meant to last five days. By the second day I had already worked out the patrolling system the Death Eaters used, and due to my own ego, I thought that I had outsmarted them. While they were swapping shifts, I managed to slip inside the building and locate the artefact. I was caught the moment I touched it, and anti-Apparation spells kept me in place, trussed up like a roast dinner until they came to get me. They took their time about it too, making it more than obvious that I was stuck and not going anywhere any time soon. They felt like the longest ten minutes of my life. I was lucky enough to be disguised enough that not one recognised me as a Parkinson, and in those ten minutes, I was able to displace my wand so they could not use it against me."

There was a moment of silence as Pansy licked her lips, trying to get some moisture back in her mouth. Veritaserum was draining and dehydrating, but she still felt the compulsion to answer Ginny's question and couldn't yet bring herself to ask for water. A goblet of water appeared above her head and she gratefully took it, sitting up to sip the liquid before thanking Ginny and returning to her earlier position on the lounge.

"They, of course, caught me. I was knocked out and taken somewhere. I woke up later that day and was asked about my allegiances, about who had sent me, and what was wanted with the artefact. They tortured me within an inch of my life in the first month of capturing me, and I broke. I told them everything: that I had been sent from Cloffice, my full name and address. I think I even told them my Gringotts account number at some point... I thought that they would turn me loose when they had what they wanted. Some part of me even thought that they might finally put me out of my misery and kill me. I longed for them to do exactly that. Instead, once they found out that I was an operative for Cloffice, they tortured me for even more information. They wanted to know exactly what the recruits were taught, what the procedures were for various missions and objectives, the fighting techniques we learned, who the other operatives were, the various locations of Cloffice, everything I could possibly give them so they could use it against the Ministry. I was able to hold out this time for five months. They broke my arms, legs, and my fingers one by one. They kept me conscious through everything they did to me, and used anticipatory techniques to make it even worse."

"Anticipatory techniques?" Ginny questioned, frowning.

"They would wait before torturing me at times, but they would make it clear that they were going to do something and made me wait for it to happen, my mind expanding on it beyond reality. Sometimes they would tell me that they were going to break my fingers, other times they simply put pressure on my fingers. I would spend minutes or hours going over everything they could do, effectively driving myself insane with anticipation over what they might do to me. One time, they said they were going to crush my hand and then left a brick hovering over my hand for three hours."

Ginny made a small sound of sympathy, but Pansy was lost to her memories and seemed oblivious to the noise.

"I held out for those five months, and then they told me about Fred's death. They knew all about my relationship with Fred and George; we weren't the world's biggest secret back then. I used a slight blanket Memory Charm when I became Director to make sure everyone glossed over any memories they had of us together. I couldn't let George be at risk because of my job, even if we were no longer together," she added in explanation before Ginny could ask. "The Death Eaters confirmed Fred's death with pictures, news reports, and even showed the Daily Prophet photo of George crying over his grave. I knew that they weren't smart enough to fake that information... I broke again later that week. I told them everything I could. It took almost two months to relate everything that I knew; being partnered with the Directors as I had been allowed me an insight into Cloffice that not everyone had."

 _It would have been interesting, that's for certain_ , the little voice in Ginny's head murmured.

She found herself agreeing before she remembered that she wasn't meant to be listening to the voice anymore, and returned her attention to Pansy with a fierce determination.

"They realised that they had all of the information from me that they could gain, and I had all but become useless. Then one of the Death Eater's seemed to realise that I was female, and they all took turns at raping me for the next three months. George found me in that way, with one of the bastard's halfway through raping me, and he said the Killing Curse so fast I thought he'd hit me too. For a minute, it felt like he had, but then he was ripping the wizard off of me and helping me escape. I wasn't in the right frame of mind - after eleven months of torture, I don't think anyone expected me to be - and for some reason, as George was leading me away, I saw Neville there, slicing through the Death Eaters with Gryffindor's sword and I just started laughing. I was hysterical, but I couldn't seem to believe that I was being saved by _Neville Longbottom_ with _Godric bloody Gryffindor's_ sword," she said, a small hysterical giggle escaping her now. "I don't think Dennis has ever forgiven me for that," Pansy added with a slight frown.

"All right, that's enough, Pansy," Ginny said quietly.

She had more questions, especially about her own mission as Amelie, but couldn't bring herself to ask Pansy yet. Instead, Ginny grabbed the bottle of Firewhisky and poured two goblets, offering one to Pansy after she'd sat up once more. She took it with a weak smile and drank without a word.

 _Pansy doesn't know everything about Amelie, you know. When you've finished acting like a spoilt child, ask me about Amelie, and I'll tell you everything you want to know_ , the little voice in Ginny's head murmured.

Ginny pretended as though she hadn't heard the voice and took a long drink from her goblet.

...

George returned home from a night out with the boys to find his lounge room in a sorry state. His girlfriend didn't look much better, and George belatedly realised that the heap of robes he'd stepped over to get out of the fireplace was actually his sister, curled up under no less than three winter robes. Goblets littered the floor, more than one bottle of Firewhisky was strewn about the room, and Pansy was almost falling off the couch, one of the bottles cradled in her arms. Sighing, George went to get sobering potions for them, a flick of his wand quietly sorting the mess out.

Ginny was rudely awoken by a wand poking her, and she gave a low hiss at the light flooding the room. She muttered something to the effect of 'turn off the bloody lights' and had a potion-filled goblet shoved at her instead.

"I can't turn the sun off, Gin. Now drink this," George replied.

She squeezed her eyes shut and drank the potion dutifully, the pounding in her head lessening somewhat and the light not quite so bright now.

"Better?" George asked, grinning at her.

"Food first," Ginny mumbled, standing up and staggering towards the kitchen to make something to eat.

George knew Ginny and Pansy better than that and immediately redirected his sister towards the dining table. "I already made breakfast for you. I don't want you blowing up my kitchen without going through the proper experimental process first."

Ginny didn't reply, too busy chewing on a pancake to really register his words. Across from her, Pansy didn't look much better, dark circles under her eyes as she tried not to fall asleep in her juice and crumpets. George sat down and ate his breakfast calmly, as if having two very hungover witches at his dining room table was an everyday occurrence. He cleared the table with a flick and swish of his wand, a secondary spell making the scrubbing brush clean the dishes for him when they arrived in the kitchen.

"So, I presume it was a good night then?" George asked cheerfully, looking between them.

"Shut up," Ginny groaned, resting her head against the table.

"Looks like you both need another two sobering potions each," he muttered, Accio'ing the box of vials from the bathroom. "We only have two left, so you get one each and have to suffer for the rest of the day or until one of you can legally Apparate to the Apothecary in Diagon Alley. I hope it was worth it."

"It was," Ginny said quietly, her head still leaning against the table. "But we should have checked the sobering potions before we started the third bottle of Firewhisky," she admitted.

"At my age, we should have checked halfway through the first bottle," Pansy said, smirking.

"Yeah, you're a right fucking grandmother, Parkinson," Ginny said, lifting her head briefly to grin at her.

Pansy just laughed in response, setting them both into a fit of giggles. As George sat there amidst their laughter, he couldn't bring himself to question just what the hell they were going on about.

...

 

End of the thirty-first chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	32. Chapter 32

"Have you decided on your dress robes for the Malfoy Annual Ball yet, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

 

"No, I haven't had a chance to think about it, honestly. Work's keeping me swamped," Ginny said with a brief smile and shrug.

 

"Did you narrow them down at all? Hermione, Fleur, Gabrielle and I could look at them for you and decide which we like best," Molly offered from further down the dining table.

 

"Oh, that would be _fantastique_ ," Fleur said excitedly, smiling brightly. ( _Fantastic_. French.)

 

"I narrowed it down to five dress robes, but I don't have the photos with me..." Ginny began to say, but across from her, Gabrielle smiled and produced a bundle of photographs.

 

"Don't worry, I have ze photos wiv me," she said, passing them to down Molly.

 

Molly and Hermione immediately started comparing each of the dress robes that Ginny had tried on. Arthur, Ron, and Harry left for the lounge room the moment the two witches were preoccupied, Ron saying something about the latest Quidditch game being aired on the Wireless.

 

"Je vous déteste," Ginny muttered, glaring at Gabrielle. ( _I hate you_. French.)

 

Fleur looked appropriately offended, but Gabrielle just laughed.

 

"Oui, je sais," she said, her smile even brighter. ( _Yes, I know_. French.)

 

"You seem to be getting along well with your French, don't you, Ginny?" Bill said, grinning at her. "I still only know how to say _vous parlez anglais_?" ( _Do you speak English_? French.)

 

"Oui, and even zen your accent is 'orrible," Gabrielle said, laughing.

 

"Gabrielle!" Fleur admonished.

 

"It's all right, love, she's right. We'll have to work on my French again tonight."

 

Fleur's response was little more than a murmured 'oui', and Ginny realised that her brother's hand was resting rather high up on Fleur's thigh. She tried not to laugh when George rolled his eyes at her.

 

"Ils sont comme des lapins," George said smoothly, Gabrielle choking on her drink in laughter. ( _They are like rabbits_. French.)

 

"Hey, whatever you're saying can be said in English while the rest of us non-French-speaking people are at the table," Charlie muttered.

 

He had been burnt by a dragon fairly seriously the week before and had been bound and then restricted to the hospital or his bed for the entire time. The healers had even refused to let him go for a walk outside in case he tried to go to the dragon pen (he definitely would have tried), so Charlie was in somewhat of a foul mood. George gave him a sympathetic expression and slung his arm around Charlie's shoulders.

 

"Now, now, dearest brother of mine, we just had treacle tart, so I simply refuse to let you be downcast after eating your favourite dessert."

 

"Oh, shove off, George. I don't have to be cheerful all the time," he muttered, shrugging George's arm away.

 

"I didn't hear what you said, so I'm going to pretend it was a positive response," George said with a bright smile.

 

"Bastard, you know exactly what I said."

 

"I didn't hear that either," George said in a sing-song voice.

 

Charlie muttered something obscene under his breath.

 

"Now _that_ I heard. I can't believe you'd kiss our mother with that foul mouth!"

 

Growling, Charlie went for his wand to hex George, only to find that it wasn't in his side holster. George smiled at him, holding up his wand and giving it a little wave.

 

"Looking for this, dearest brother?" he asked, getting up and running a millisecond before Charlie lunged for him.

 

Charlie ran after George immediately, leaving Gabrielle and Ginny laughing at the way George had managed to distract Charlie without him even knowing it.

 

"No running in the house, boys," Molly called distractedly, not looking up from the photos.

 

"We'd best be off, Mother," Bill said abruptly. "Thank you for the lovely meal," he said.

 

" _Oui_ , it was _délicieux_ ," Fleur said with a bright smile. ( _Yes. Delicious_. French.)

 

"Oh, thank you, dear," Molly said, smiling at her daughter-in-law warmly.

 

Bill gave Molly a quick kiss before taking Fleur's hand and Apparating to their home. Soon after they disappeared, Charlie and George returned. George was rubbing his arm gingerly and Charlie had his wand in his holster once more. Knowing how physical Charlie could be - _he wrestled dragons for fun, for the gods' sakes!_ \- Ginny had no doubt that George would be bruising sooner rather than later.

 

"Oh, this one's lovely, dear," Molly said, holding out the photo for Ginny.

 

Gabrielle was closer so she took the offered photograph and passed it to Ginny with a slight grin.

 

"This isn't one of the dresses I narrowed it down to," Ginny muttered, glowering at Gabrielle. "Just how many photos do you have there, Mother?" she asked sweetly, not looking away from her sister-in-law, who just smirked at her.

 

"About twenty," Hermione replied, doing a quick count before Molly.

 

"Why did you give them twenty, Gabby? I'm going to be here for hours," Ginny hissed softly.

 

"Never mind that; the five you picked weren't ze best," Gabrielle replied quietly, waving off her protest.

 

"They were the best of the ones that I could afford," she muttered. "I distinctly remember that this one costs _more_ than all of my savings," Ginny said, looking at the photo her mother had handed her.

 

"Draco or Blaise will buy them; you 'onestly think zat 'e vill like showin' up wiv you on his arm wearin' a cheap dress?"

 

"Who cares what he likes? I'm not getting Blaise - or Draco - to buy my clothes. If I can't afford it, then I won't buy it. If they buy the dress for me, I know that I won't be comfortable wearing it."

 

"That's why you buy the dress with a Comfort Charm sewed in," George said with a straight face.

 

Gabrielle burst out laughing while Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. Standing up, she went down to where Molly and Hermione were bantering over her complexion and the red dress in the photo. It was one of the few dresses that Gabrielle had chosen, but Ginny hadn't had the time (or the patience) to actually take a photo in it as she had with the others.

 

"Ginny, don't you think this red dress would clash awfully with your hair?" Hermione asked, looking up at her.

 

"That's just a myth that people who can't wear red made up," Molly said dismissively. "Ginny looks wonderful in red, don't you, dear?"

 

"Oui, she does," Gabrielle said before Ginny could answer.

 

"Have you narrowed the dresses down at all?" Ginny asked.

 

The change of subject was deliberate, since Ginny still thought that red clothes made her look all _splotchy_ , but she did not want to get involved in _that_ argument yet again.

 

Molly and Hermione nodded, sorting through the photographs to hand her the ones they'd actually agreed on. Of the nine she'd been handed, Ginny liked four of them herself. She narrowed it down further to three when Gabrielle insisted that one of the dresses made her look like an eggplant flambé. Ginny scowled at her for that, but Gabrielle just smiled innocently in response.

 

An hour and two arguments later, Ginny finally decided on the dress and robe she would wear to the Malfoy Annual Ball. It was one of the more expensive sets (she realised that Gabrielle had removed the prices so Molly and Hermione wouldn't base their arguments on price alone), but Ginny had enough saved to buy it without going completely broke. She might just have to beg George to cover her rent for a month or two.

 

Speaking of her brother, Ginny saw that all of the Weasley men had seemingly disappeared from the room. They'd actually cleared the table without them noticing, which was some sort of miracle in and of itself, and Molly made a fuss when she saw that the dishes had even been cleaned too. They went searching for the men, finding George, Arthur, Ron and Charlie in the lounge room, dozing in front of the Wireless with Gerda Curd doing a reading from her newest edition of _Charm Your Cheese_ playing on the radio. Gabrielle offered to take Charlie home, Side Apparating before Ginny could ask how she even knew where Charlie lived. Hermione did the same with Ron, and Ginny kissed her mother goodbye before Side Apparating George home as well.

 

...

 

The final week of Training Centre Four came to an end, and for Ginny, it couldn't come quick enough. She went home with a migraine every night and felt physically nauseous sick waking up every morning. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew she'd have her memory wiped if she didn't turn up to the Centaur Liaison Office for the past two weeks, Ginny would have stayed home huddled under her blankets.

 

Learning about torture was very different from experiencing it, but she knew that without the experience, Ginny wouldn't have appreciated exactly what it was she was learning, as sick as it sounded even to herself. She knew from first-hand experience what it was like to be tortured with Chinese water-boarding; to have her limbs broken one by one until the pain was so excruciating that she would answer any question posed; to have her family and friends' lives threatened by her captors, the absolute fear that she could invoke simply by showing a few photographs and naming a few addresses. Ginny learnt all of the techniques, her mind echoing with the memory of everything she'd been put through. This past week had them performing what they'd learnt on dummies, scenarios built around their circumstances, and they continued until the dummies had revealed the information they'd been given.

 

Every evening, Morrigan was led to the fireplace by Jordan, both of their faces pale and echoing Ginny's own emotions, and even Claudia looked ill at the things they had learnt and done. They were all soft-spoken as they said goodbye on Friday evening, not one of them able to seem lively, even though it was their last day.

 

Ginny Flooed to her office at The Quibbler, intent on connecting straight home and sleeping for the whole weekend. She heard noise coming from inside her office as she Flooed in, and held her wand tightly as she stepped out. Ginny was surprised to see that Pansy was waiting with George seated beside her, but Pansy simply smiled and indicated for her to sit down.

 

"What are you doing here, Pansy? We'll be seeing each other on Monday for lunch," Ginny said, frowning even as she took the indicated seat.

 

"I know, but this has to do with work, and cannot wait until Monday," Pansy said with a slightly forced smile. "Now that you've finished at Cloffice, your Unbreakable Vow will need to be re-administered. I asked George to be our Bonder, I hope you don't mind my presumption."

 

It was a rhetorical question, really, but Ginny couldn't hope to answer even if it was expected. In her mind, there was a sudden flash of memory, and a phantom pain seared through her arm and spread through her body. In the memory, it continued until she was kneeling on the ground with her chest heaving, her heart pounding beneath her skin, sweat covering her body, and her throat raw from screaming. She was brought back to the present by a polite cough, and Ginny licked her dry lips and gave a slight nod.

 

Pansy stood and moved around the desk to offer her right hand to Ginny, who took it with her own right hand. George was sombre as he stood, drawing his wand to perform the Unbreakable Vow spell for them.

 

"Ready, ladies?" he asked, a grin splitting his expression for a moment.

 

"Can we skip our pride and sit down? I don't want to stand up, only to fall over like I did last time," Ginny muttered.

 

Pansy laughed softly and nodded. "You weren't the only one that fell, but yes, I agree."

 

They moved to the small couch in front of the fireplace, clasped hands once more, and George resumed his position as Bonder, placing the tip of his wand on their joined hands. Pansy recited the generic Unbreakable Vow that all Centaur Liaison Office employees had to agree to, a thin line of flames issuing from George's wand with each affirmative response Ginny gave.

 

Ginny watched as the final line poured forth from George's wand, wrapping around their hands and joining the single fiery ropes that were already embedding their way into her skin. The burning sensation was worse with each flame, and she tried not to scream in pain as the final one surpassed her pain threshold and descended into agony, dragging Ginny along with her. The pain was too much, her eyes watering with the effort not to scream, and she eventually succumbed, collapsing on the floor with a moan of pain, her world going dark. Pansy followed soon after, not uttering a single sound, though George knew how much it hurt her each time on top of her already-scarred arms.

 

He sighed and withdrew his wand carefully. The fiery lines would stay fresh on both of their arms for a few days (Pansy's would probably take longer, as she still had another three recruits to do the same Vow with), but as there was no time frame specified, the lines would eventually fade from their arms completely unless they wilfully threatened to break them (under torture, the Vow marks would still be hidden so as to not alert their captors as to its presence - it was the Cloffice's own version of the Unbreakable Vow, but the recruits didn't need to know that since it would achieve little). George touched his own arm where his Unbreakable Vow had burned, and then straightened up, waking Pansy with a quick Enervate spell.

 

"Thank you, George. Will you be all right getting Ginevra home on your own? I still have the other three recruits to deal with," Pansy said, straightening her robes.

 

"I'll be fine. Firecall me when you get home so I know you haven't collapsed in someone's office in the middle of Europe, all right?"

 

Pansy's face softened at the concern in George's voice and she nodded briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'll be fine," she echoed with a ghost of a smile.

 

George picked Ginny up carefully, her body a dead weight in his arms. Behind him, Pansy went to the other side of the office and waited until he'd Disapparated before she pulled out her Time Turner and spun it two times. When the room stopped spinning, Pansy licked her dry lips and gave a sharp whistle to indicate that she'd arrived. Past-Pansy turned away, gave a whistle in response, and Pansy Disapparated out of Ginny's office without a word.

 

Pansy discovered that Jordan and Morrigan were going out for dinner, so they were in the same office. It made her job slightly easier, as she was able to use each of them as the Bonder for the other's Unbreakable Vow. When they were finished, and all three were revived with Jordan and Morrigan going to dinner, Pansy Apparated back to Ginny's office. She arrived just in time to see George leave with Ginny in his arms. She waited until her other self disappeared in time before stepping into the office once more and repeating the process. This time, when the spinning stopped, Pansy let out two sharp whistles to indicate that she was a different version of herself. When two whistles were sounded in response, Pansy Disapparated to Claudia's workplace to repeat the process again.

 

By the time she arrived home that evening, Pansy was exhausted both mentally and physically. All of the time displacement made her head ache, and she barely remembered that she'd told George she'd firecall him. She threw a handful of Floo powder on the flames, called George's grate number, and collapsed on the lounge. George answered immediately, only to see that Pansy had fallen asleep in the short time it took their fireplaces to connect. Her wards were always up, and set to such a private extent that even her own family would have trouble getting in without her express permission, so George didn't try to Apparate. He rather liked not being minced meat. Not seeing another way to wake her up, since she wasn't responding to his voice, George shot off a few loud sparks from the end of his wand, Pansy jolting awake with a gasp.

 

"What the bloody hell was that for?!" she demanded irritably.

 

"Sorry to wake you like that, Pansy dear. You fell asleep while our call was connecting. I couldn't wake you, and I can't Apparate to your home without causing some serious damage to my person."

 

Pansy gave a brief nod and apologised for her outburst.

 

"Not a problem, Pansy dear. Now get yourself to bed, or I'll call your house elf back from his holiday."

 

"Oh, don't do that. He's probably already ironed his hands for taking time off," she muttered with a yawn.

 

"Uh-huh," George said, not at all liking the way Pansy was starting to drop off. "How about you let me through? I don't think you'll be able to get to bed on your own."

 

Pansy made some sort of tired noise in agreement. She pointed her wand at the fireplace and Accio'd a vial of blood. Deciding it was too much effort to uncork it, stand up, and pour a drop of blood on the flames, Pansy just threw the whole damn vial into the fire to allow him through.

 

George was in her home in a matter of seconds, closing the grate behind him quickly. Pansy was already starting to doze off when he gathered her up and Apparated them up to her bedroom. She was vaguely aware of him undressing her and muttering something about unicorn pyjamas, but Pansy was too exhausted to respond. She let sleep overcome her completely, knowing that she would be safe with George.

 

...

 

End of the thirty-second chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	33. Chapter 33

"Draco! Blaise! Where are you, you miserable bastards? You were meant to meet me at the shop an hour ago!" George called.

 

"Fuck off!" Draco's magnified voice responded.

 

"I guess I'll just keep your order of Busybody Buttons then?" George called with a smirk. "Not bad, I get paid for a job that you don't even pick up."

 

"Ignore Draco, he's being a prat," Blaise said from landing of the foyer's staircase. "Oh."

 

"Hello," Ginny said, smiling uncertainly.

 

"Blaise, I need more glasses to destroy!" Draco called, his voice still magnified and echoing through the Manor.

 

Ginny was surprised at his request; _could it be that they were still hurling glasses at a solid target whenever they were emotionally distraught?_ It would certainly explain Blaise's attire: he was wearing all silk clothing as usual, but was also outfitted with heavy boots, gloves, and even had a pair of goggles hanging loosely around his neck.

 

"I'm not your fucking elf; get down here and get them yourself!" Blaise called.

 

"No, but you're my fuck... Gin?" Draco said, stopping short as he stared at her.

 

"Draco. I ... I came to apologise. I know you had no choice and couldn't tell me, and I..."

 

Draco Apparated directly in front of her, pulling her close to kiss her soundly before she could continue with her apology. There was nothing Ginny could do but cling on for dear life, her fingers curled into his shoulders painfully. They both ignored George's amused chuckle beside her, and were joined by Blaise a few seconds later when he determined she wasn't going to hex Draco for his actions.

 

"Right, I'll just leave the buttons over here then. I'll expect you home by 10 tomorrow morning, Gin. Any later and I'll be calling our mother," George said cheerfully, Disapparating without waiting for a response.

 

"I'm sorry," Ginny murmured when they pulled away and she'd caught her breath once more.

 

"So are we," Blaise said. "We wanted to tell you, more than anything. I even had to put a Silencing Charm on Draco at times because I knew he was going to try and say something the closer you got to Training Centre Four," he admitted.

 

"I would've broken my Vow for you, love, and not cared about the consequences," Draco said.

 

"Don't say that! You _know_ what the consequences are for breaking the Vows, so don't you **ever** do that!" Ginny demanded hotly. Then her fierce expression fell suddenly, and she shook her head and gave a hollow laugh. "Oh, gods, do you hear how _idiotic_ I sound? I get upset at you for _not_ telling me about the Training Centre, and then I get upset at the idea of you telling me about it! I'm such an idiot."

 

"No, you're not," Blaise said immediately. "You're just... responding to each situation as it's presented to you."

 

"You're sweet, Blaise. A liar, but a sweet one," Ginny murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I should have trusted you both more," she said with a sigh.

 

"Yeah, you should have," Draco said. "What? I'm just agreeing with what Gin said," he added when Blaise glowered at him.

 

Blaise turned back to Ginny and pulled her into his arms, hugging her warmly. "We know - or I do, at least - that you trust us more than you think you do, otherwise you wouldn't be back in our lives again. To you, this is still a new relationship, but Draco and I been dating you for much longer than these past few months, Gin. You just need to relearn how to trust us again; you have to believe me when I say that we won't hurt you."

 

"Not intentionally, at least," Draco added, realising that he couldn't promise that for every feeling Ginny might ever have about them in the future.

 

"I won't hurt either of you intentionally either," she promised.

 

Ginny hugged Blaise back, waving Draco over to join them. He grinned brightly and hugged her from behind, her body sandwiched between them. Draco stroked her sides, the action tickling her and making her gasp with laughter. Blaise chuckled and joined in with Draco's torture, both of them ticking her until she was laughing so hard that tears were running down her cheeks.

 

Somewhere between her gasping for breath and them Apparating to the Manor's weapons room, Ginny knew that everything would be all right between them. She might not trust them as implicitly as they trusted her yet - she was still too new to this relationship again to be able to trust them like that quite so easily - but Ginny knew that she would eventually trust them even more than Ginevra had.

 

...

 

Pansy woke up later than she usually did on a Saturday. She threw her hand out to her bedside table, feeling around for her watch to find out the time. Almost 11 o'clock. Sighing, she sat up and called for her head house elf, knowing that her house elves would have returned from their holidays in the early hours of the morning.

 

"Good morning, Ms. Parkinson. How can Dezzy help Ms. Parkinson this morning?"

 

"I'll have breakfast in bed this morning. Bring me a copy of _The Quibbler_ and _The Daily Prophet_ , but make sure to bring the latter only after I've finished my cup of tea, I don't want to break another teacup. Open the blinds for me, would you Dezzy?"

 

The house elf gave a quick nod, clicking his fingers, the blinds drawing across.

 

"What on Earth?!"

 

Dezzy turned back to his Mistress, worried that he'd somehow done something wrong. Instead, she seemed to be looking at her attire with a mix of derision and amusement.

 

"George actually changed me into _unicorn_ pyjamas. I don't even _own_ unicorn pyjamas. Gods, I'm going to kill him," Pansy muttered to herself, but there was a smile on her face.

 

Dezzy smiled as he disappeared to follow Pansy's earlier instructions. It was good that Mister Weasley was in his Mistress' life again; she hadn't smiled like that in some time. He just hoped that Mister Weasley would stay this time.

 

...

 

"Good afternoon, and welcome to the sixth Deceased Day. For those who have come to the Hogsmeade cemetery, we thank you for your presence. To those who are at home listening via their wireless, we thank you for your thoughts. Now, to start the ceremony, I welcome the Boy Who Lived, and the saviour of the wizarding world: Harry Potter," said Lewis Funke, Kingsley Shacklebolt's successor as Minister for Magic.

 

Ginny winced slightly at the deafening applause, wishing that she hadn't been dragged here like she was every year. Still, she smiled like she was supposed to and tried to look sombre at the same time. The journalists were clicking cameras at a rapid speed, ensuring that everyone would have their faces plastered on the front of every newspaper in the wizarding world for the next month, at least.

 

Harry began his speech, but Ginny tuned him out, instead keeping her attention on people in the crowd. Her family were positioned near the front of the crowd, given the Ministry's highest privilege with the sacrifices they made during the war. (The fact that their family were the close and personal friends of Harry Potter, Saviour of the wizarding world didn't hurt either.)

 

Cameras and various media reporters were all focused on The Boy Who Lived as he continued with his speech, but Ginny didn't dare let her expression drop from the sombre and respectful face she portrayed. George was trying to tickle her to make her laugh, always muttering afterwards that Fred would be ashamed to see him not even try, but she was determined not to let him beat her this year. She blinked on realising that Harry's speech was continuing on for longer than it usually did, and refocused her attention on the world around her.

 

"... like to introduce my girlfriend, Cho Chang. Her kindness, spirit, and courage in the face of adversity all helped me get through the Final Battle, along with my best friends Ron and Hermione," Harry added quickly, looking to where they were seated behind him on the stage.

 

There was a loud round of applause as Cho stood next to Harry, blushing at the attention that was directed towards her. Somewhere in the noise, Ginny could hear Rita Skeeter talking to her Quick Quotes Quill about poor late Cedric Diggory's girlfriend. If she had been able to see the cruel and beady-eyed reporter, Ginny would have hexed her, no matter that Cho had helped Harry cheat on her.

 

"I know this is kind of sudden, but I wanted to give this day a new meaning, one of celebration instead of mourning," Harry said, taking Cho's hand with a broad smile.

 

"Hey, that's my line," George muttered to Ginny.

 

"Cho Chang, I've loved you since Hogwarts, and I would be the happiest man in the world if you agreed to marry me."

 

Ginny felt her jaw drop open, and even George stopped trying to tickle her, staring at the stage in shock. _Harry had dated her for_ ** _years_** _, and had blanched in horror any time marriage was so much as mentioned nearby, yet here he was proposing to Cho only months after officially dating her?!_

 

Ginny wasn't jealous - _good luck to both of them! Ha!_ \- but it still felt like a slap in the face and a spell in the guts all at once.

 

"George, I'm getting out of here before the reporters realise," she murmured, barely waiting for his nod before quietly Apparating the hell out of the cemetery and back to their apartment.

 

Five minutes had barely passed and there was a knock at the door, Draco and Blaise calling out to her uncertainly.

 

"Gin, will you let us in?" Blaise asked, knocking for a third time.

 

She went to open the door with a flick of her wand, but noticed her trembling hand before she could do the spell, and lowered her arm carefully. Despite their concern, Ginny doubted Draco or Blaise would appreciate the door being accidentally blown off the hinges right in front of them because she was in a state of shock. Walking over and opening the door manually, Ginny tried to smile reassuringly, but by the expressions on their faces, she obviously failed.

 

"You're that upset about Potter's engagement? Or that he didn't propose to you?" Draco asked curiously, dodging the elbow that Blaise tried to plant in his ribs.

 

Ginny laughed shortly and shook her head. "Not at all; I'm so glad it wasn't me up there. It was just a surprise, especially after being forced to listen to him bitch and moan about what marriage does to a couple for years on end."

 

Blaise closed the door behind them and followed Ginny to the lounge room. "What does Potter think marriage does to a couple?"

 

"Oh, something about losing all the passion when there's a piece of paper involved, and being stuck with each other for years on end because of the children; I kind of tuned him out when he went on like that," Ginny said, shrugging.

 

"He sounds like an absolute charmer," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes.

 

"Curiously, what are your thoughts about marriage?" Blaise asked, grinning.

 

"That it should be a commitment made in love, that each person in the marriage is allowed their own life and friends, and if anyone ever cheats, they should have their _wand_ snapped," she said firmly, glancing down and making them both very aware that she wasn't referring to their wands at all.

 

"What if the woman cheats?" Draco asked.

 

"Never thought of a punishment; I know I'd never cheat."

 

"All right, any other woman then," he replied impatiently.

 

Ginny sat down on the lounge, moving so Draco and Blaise could sit on either side of her. "I doubt I could say anything worthy that wouldn't make me sound completely biased towards women. So, if a woman ever cheats, then their partner can choose the punishment."

 

"Why not the same thing for the man?" Blaise pointed out.

 

"Because I'm pretty sure 99.9 percent of women would all choose the same punishment," Ginny said, laughing.

 

"So, how soon after Potter's first announcement did you leave?" Draco asked.

 

"Fairly soon, I didn't want the report... Wait, _first_ announcement? What else did he say other than propose to Cho?"

 

"He told everyone that she was pregnant," Blaise replied.

 

"Pregnant? Oh, that hypocritical bastard! He always said how he didn't want to get married and have children straight away! Oh no, wait, that was just because I was me. Ugh, that absolute bloody wanker!"

 

Draco seemed amused at her descriptive language, chuckling when Ginny continued into the utterly extreme.

 

"He's an arse-octopus with a Horklump for a cock!"

 

By then, even Blaise had gone from staring to chuckling, and when Draco started laughing, he fell into a fit of laughter as well.

 

"Don't ... don't insult ... Horklumps," Draco breathed out between gasps, waving at her to stop so he could get himself under control again.

 

Ginny heard an Apparation noise, and looked over to the kitchen to see George getting a bottle of Firewhisky out of the cupboard and a Butterbeer from the fridge.

 

"Geez, Gin-bug, what'd you do to them? I haven't seen those two laugh like that for a year," George said, coming out of the kitchen and stopping short on seeing the tears of laughter that were trekking down Blaise's cheeks.

 

"Oh, I just expanded my swearing vocabulary into the world of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ ," Ginny said with a grin.

 

"Hmm, sounds interesting. Tell me later, when those two aren't likely to collapse into a fit of giggles at the name of what was probably a very innocent animal," George said, grinning as he headed to his room to get drunk.

 

Ginny performed a Calming Charm on her boyfriends, waiting until they'd both calmed down completely before pulling both of them into a kiss. "Thank you for taking my mind off things. But now I think I really need to hex the living hell out of something, or get absolutely plastered on Firewhisky."

 

"Come to my Manor, we can do both. Preferably not at the same time, though," Blaise added, pressing another kiss to her lips.

 

"We'll set up a few dummies, we can hex them to pieces, and then we can drink Blaise's finest bottle of Firewhisky until we don't know the difference between up and down," Draco promised.

 

"You two know I'm going to be a sobbing mess of emotions, right? This is the day that Fred died, and I'm telling you in advance that I won't be in the right frame of mind for anything, least of all anything relating to sex."

 

"We wouldn't expect you to be, Gin," Blaise said.

 

"This is also the day my father was sentenced to Azkaban again, so I'm never in a good mood either. Getting so drunk I forget my name helps, sometimes. At least, it does until I wake up again," Draco amended.

 

"Right, so swords and a complete lack of sobriety it is," Blaise said, clapping his hands together. "Hey, George, get your arse out here! We're going to my place!"

 

"Not interested."

 

"You will be; we're destroying dummies and then getting plastered on Draco's finest bottles of Firewhisky."

 

There was a long pause, Draco scowling at Blaise and Ginny snickering at their expressions, and then George opened his bedroom door and stepped out.

 

"Already had eight shots, so you had best get me sober before giving me a weapon," George enunciated carefully.

 

Ginny slipped past him to the bathroom to get a sobering potion. Then she decided that by the end of this, they'd all need one, and brought the whole box back with her. George took two vials, swallowed the contents in one gulp and dropped the empty vials on the table with a shudder.

 

"I'm calling Pansy to meet us there; she can still get by your wards right, Zabini?"

 

"Pretty sure she can get by anyone's wards," Blaise muttered.

 

George firecalled Pansy, who wasn't exactly looking sober herself, but perked up at the idea of drinking Draco _and_ Blaise's finest bottles of Firewhisky and agreed to meet them there. The call disconnected on Pansy calling out for her house elf loudly.

 

Fifteen minutes later, they were all in Zabini Manor armed with weapons, sobering potions, and a bottle of Firewhisky each. Their things were placed to the side, the house elves left the witches and wizards to their own devices (after placing heavy protective charms on each of them to ensure they wouldn't accidentally kill each other in their alcohol-infused grief _thing_ ), and the dummies were prepared to become little more than toothpicks by the next morning.

 

...

 

The next morning resulted in four sobering potions each, a few well-placed curses (something about Horklumps that George didn't quite catch) when someone stepped on something sharp, and a general consensus about the sun being too bright.

 

Sitting up slowly after she finished swallowing the last of the sobering potions (the sun was barely starting to dim behind her eyelids, and Ginny wasn't entirely sure she could bear to open her eyes completely just yet), Ginny waited until her stomach stopped churning, blinking and surveying the damage they'd done.

 

The dummies were completely obliterated, and in their place was nothing but pieces of wood scattered around the training room floor. Three of the five Firewhisky bottles had been thrown, resulting in multiple shards projecting rainbows on the far wall, and at some point, someone had etched a lightning bolt on the wall and they'd thrown their swords at the wall like darts. Ginny was almost proud to note that her sword was embedded in the dead centre of the bolt.

 

"I think we had a good time last night, but I don't remember," Pansy groaned.

 

"We had a good time," George promised, grinning. "I seem to remember you offering to hunt Potter down and turn him into dragon food for daring to hurt your best friend."

 

"Ah, yeah. I remember that part too. I'm pretty sure I told you I wasn't hurt, and then you drew the lightning bolt in the wall," Ginny said with a broad smile.

 

"You're going to have to knock that wall down completely and get it rebuilt," Draco muttered to Blaise.

 

He snorted in amusement. "Do you honestly think the Manor would let me do that? I'm surprised Pansy's alive after doing that to the wall. This place is more temperamental than Hogwarts," Blaise muttered. "I'll get rid of the mark if you get rid of the swords."

 

"Deal," Draco said, going to get his wand.

 

The wall was cleaned and repaired a few minutes later, and everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief when the room didn't collapse down on them in retaliation. Blaise called out for a house elf, directing the creature to clean up the toothpicks and glass pieces they'd created. The house elf seemed to let out a breath of pure gratitude and immediately started cleaning, four more elves appearing to help without even being called.

 

"Lunch is served in the dining room," another house elf announced, bowing to Blaise quickly before going to help his brothers and sisters clean.

 

The walk to the dining room was quiet, Ginny holding Draco and Blaise's hands loosely in her own. She still felt emotionally drained and exhausted as she usually did after the anniversary of Fred's death, but Ginny felt like she'd be able to get through the rest of the week without breaking down into tears every five minutes. She just had to survive this week, then the Malfoy Annual Ball on the weekend, and then she would be all right again until next year. She hoped.

 

"Uh, Blaise? I don't think we got away with redecorating quite so easily," Pansy said, sounding as apologetic as he'd heard in years.

 

Blaise cursed loudly on seeing the way the dining room had been redecorated: Gryffindor red wallpaper with bright gold lightning bolts.

 

...

 

End of the thirty-third chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	34. Chapter 34

Ginny smoothed out her dress with one hand for what was probably the twentieth time in the last thirty seconds, and tried not to crush her invitation in her other hand. She was nervous and couldn't seem to shake the feeling, and it felt like there were butterflies in her stomach (even George's suggestion of a shot of Firewhisky to settle her nerves hadn't worked).

 

The fireplace lit up green, and George glanced over to Ginny to ensure she was ready before he answered the call. She looked a little green herself, to be honest, but he supposed that could be the reflection from the fire as well. George opened the grate and Blaise stepped into the living room a few moments later, brushing imaginary soot off of his suit. (There wasn't a speck on it, not that George could see, at least.)

 

"Now, I want Gin home by eleven tomorrow morning. We've got lunch planned, so no whisking her away to a tropical island for the rest of the weekend," George said firmly.

 

"That was my plan for next weekend, don't worry," Blaise said with a smirk. "Ginevra, you look absolutely gorgeous," he said, stepping forward to kiss her gently.

 

Ridiculously, Ginny felt better the moment he kissed her, and she sighed softly in relief as they pulled away.

 

"Are you all right? You look a little tense," Blaise said, frowning briefly.

 

"Nervous. You'll help make sure I don't screw everything up, won't you?" Ginny asked.

 

"As much as I can, Gin. To be honest, these things can get boring. All we're going to do is stand up for most of the night, and talk to a bunch of boring and self-obsessed people - most of whom value their money more than their own lives."

 

"He's not kidding on that one, Gin. I met some pompous Earl at one of these things, a wizard in love with his money, honestly. The guy told me that he'd organised to be buried with his money so no one could have it after his death, and that was the other reason for not having a family and being celibate, so no one could challenge it. I, of course, took the liberty of changing his will so his entire bank vault will be donated to charities after his demise instead," George said, grinning. "Hmm, I should probably check up on that guy," he mused.

 

"How'd you change his will? Those things recognise magical signatures," Ginny said, somewhere between impressed and disbelieving of her brother's story.

 

"Oh, that's a tale for another time. You've got a ball to attend," George said as he firmly guided them towards the fireplace. "Now, remember. Home by eleven tomorrow," he said, pressing a kiss to Ginny's cheek, and then one to Blaise's just to rile him up.

 

"Not a problem," Blaise said, smirking and not at all perturbed by George's kiss. "Ready, Gin?" he asked, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

 

He was ready to Apparate them away to a tropical island if she wasn't (he actually had a couple to choose from, now that George had put the idea in his head). But Ginny smiled and nodded, squeezing his hand in return.

 

"As ready as I'll ever be."

 

Ginny stepped into the fireplace and Flooed to Malfoy Manor, Blaise and George's smiling faces disappearing in a flurry of flames.

 

"Lunch, George, really?" Blaise asked, his eyebrow raised.

 

"Well, it's true, I do have lunch planned. Gin's nervous, and she'll be more likely to sleep better between you two than on her own here after all of this. Good luck with it, Blaise."

 

"Thanks. See you tomorrow," he replied, throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and Flooing to Malfoy Manor after George returned the farewell.

 

...

 

Ginny stepped out of the fireplace, and didn't have to wait long until Blaise arrived behind her. She looked over his suit and dress robes, telling herself she was just checking for soot ( _yeah, right, soot_ ), and smiled a little as he did the same to her.

 

A house elf greeted them with a bow before leading them out of the guest Floo area and out to the carriages that would take them up to Malfoy Manor. Blaise held out a hand for her, helping her into the carriage before following her in and closing the door.

 

"Looking forward to the ball, Gin?" Blaise asked, grinning at her.

 

"Yes. A little nervous too; I don't want to screw this up," she admitted, looking out of the window to the trail of fairy lights that guided their way up to the Manor.

 

"You'll be fine, Gin. Just remember I'll be beside you for the whole night."

 

Ginny smirked as she looked over at him. "That's probably not as reassuring as you'd think; I've always had a thing for a man in a suit and dress robes. I'll probably have to spend half the night concentrating on not drooling on you," she snorted, laughing.

 

"I remember," Blaise said with a smirk of his own. "Draco swore that if we ever annoyed you, all we would have to do is get dressed in our finest suits and parade around until you forgave us."

 

 _It'd probably work too, damn it_ , Ginny thought to herself, but didn't dare voice it aloud.

 

Still, Blaise gave her a wink as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and took her hand to place a kiss on the back of her palm gently.

 

"I'm looking forward to dancing with you tonight," Blaise admitted.

 

"Why? I'm pretty sure the last time we danced I stepped on your ankle."

 

Blaise laughed, eyes shining in the glow from the strung lights outside. "I happen to know you did that on purpose, Miss Weasley. I've seen you dance perfectly with George before."

 

"How do you know it's not just my dancing partner?" Ginny teased.

 

"Because you were the one leading him," Blaise retorted, snickering.

 

"Then maybe you'll just have to let me lead tonight."

 

"You've set yourself up for a double entendre there, Gin."

 

"Oh, I'm more than aware of that," she quipped, grinning broadly.

 

Blaise would have answered had the carriage not come to a stop. Instead, he stepped out of the carriage and offered his hand to her, the perfect host once more.

 

"Welcome to the Malfoy Annual Ball, Miss Weasley and Mr. Zabini," a smiling wizard said with a smile at the front door. "If you'll take your robe to the robe check area just to your left, you can get a ticket for them to be returned at the end of the night."

 

Blaise nodded briefly, guiding Ginny towards the door on their left.

 

"I can just shrink it down," Ginny murmured with a slight frown.

 

"Yes, but then we wouldn't get our missions for the evening," Blaise pointed out, smirking.

 

"Our what?" Ginny asked.

 

"You'll see... Blaise Zabini and Ginevra Weasley," Blaise said to the wizard behind the counter. "Robe, please," he added to Ginny.

 

She nodded briefly and unbuttoned her robe carefully, folding it and putting it over Blaise's offered arm. He took in her midnight blue dress, robe hanging from his arm limply, then the wizard coughed, and Blaise straightened up.

 

"Right... You look lovely, darling," Blaise said, smiling at her broadly.

 

Ginny offered a smile of thanks, unsure how to respond in front of the other wizard. Both robes were handed to the wizard, who gave their tickets back to them. Blaise handed one to Ginny and guided her out to the corridor once more. Ginny looked at her ticket, blinking in surprise when she saw shimmering words on the slip of parchment card.

 

"I might just go powder my nose," Ginny said lightly, heading towards the bathroom sign hovering nearby.

 

Blaise glanced to the ticket in his hand as he waited for Ginny to return, grinning slightly when he saw his mission for the night.

 

Ginny checked to make sure that the bathroom was empty before she looked at the shimmering words on her ticket properly. She felt somewhat ridiculous at the fact her heart was pounding - all she was doing was reading a slip of parchment; _she'd been trained for far worse than this!_

 

 _Get red-ribboned scroll from library without being caught_.

 

Slipping the parchment into her concealed pocket, Ginny checked her makeup as a way to pass more time, thinking on her persona for the night. She was meant to be Ginevra Weasley, a reporter for _The Quibbler_ , only attending the Malfoy Annual Ball because of Blaise's invitation. After her article, everyone in the wizarding world probably knew that it was the reason for her presence there, and of course, none of them knew about her relationship with Blaise and Draco. She decided that she would have to warm up to Blaise over the course of the night, rather than be her usual self with either of them right away.

 

 _Good idea; you never know who's watching_ , Ginevra's voice in her head murmured.

 

Ginny ignored her, just as she had strived to do ever since Training Centre Four.

 

There was a snort, of amusement or annoyance, Ginny wasn't quite sure, but then Ginevra's voice spoke again. _You'll have to stop being stubborn about this soon, Ginny. I only did what was necessary; you honestly think it would have been a good idea to have me present in your mind while you were being tortured?_

 

Ginny stayed silent, fixing her lipstick.

 

 _You will ask me about Amelie some time, you know. Your curiosity will get the better of you; believe me, I know_.

 

"I think that's quite long enough," Ginny murmured aloud, and left the bathroom again.

 

Blaise was waiting further down the corridor, and on seeing her, he smiled at her charmingly. "Well, dearest Ginevra, are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to her.

 

"Yes, I suppose I am," Ginny replied coolly, and pointedly ignored his arm as she walked past him entirely.

 

There was a splutter of laughter ahead, and Ginny saw Draco poorly attempting to hide his amusement, his mother raising her eyebrow at him. He sobered up quickly and gave a bow as Ginny approached.

 

"Welcome to the Malfoy Annual Ball, Miss Weasley. I hope you'll enjoy yourself tonight," Draco said.

 

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy; I'm sure I will. Mrs. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to meet you."

 

"Likewise, Miss Weasley. It was certainly a surprise to see your name on the list this year; it's rare for anyone that works within the field of journalism to be invited inside of the Ball itself," Narcissa said.

 

"Well, then, I'm especially glad to be here. I am sure there'll be little for me to report besides the fashion, as the other journalists do."

 

"Possibly, but they _are_ on the other side of the Manor's gate and you are definitely not. I would be interested to read your view of our little soirée," Narcissa admitted, looking amused.

 

"I think calling it a soirée is demeaning to the grandeur of the evening, Mother," Draco said with a slight frown.

 

"Call it what you like, it is still a party with music and food," Narcissa muttered.

 

"Draco, Mrs. Malfoy, a pleasure to see you, as always," Blaise interrupted smoothly, bowing and kissing the back of Narcissa's hand.

 

Ginny rolled her eyes at his over-the-top display, but Draco just looked relieved that he had stopped what could have been an impending argument. By the time Blaise had calmed Narcissa a queue had appeared behind them, and Ginny glanced at the gathered witches and wizards to see if she could recognise anyone. She saw Claudia in the line, Morgan and Jordan a few people before her, and Gabrielle was in the line as well. Her sister-in-law caught her eye and gave a wink, grinning broadly as she took Chance's hand in her own. The brunette witch turned to Gabrielle, murmuring something low that Ginny didn't bother trying to listen to, and Gabby laughed softly, kissing her mouth firmly.

 

"Blaise, you're holding up the line; hurry up," Ginny snipped, getting annoyed as he started to reminisce about something from his and Draco's childhood.

 

"Oh, right. Coming, dearest."

 

"Don't call me that," Ginny muttered, sweeping past him and into the main ballroom.

 

She stopped short at the view before her, amazed at the splendour before her. Chandeliers were lit warmly overhead, a mass of candles floating between the large crystal structures, and the ballroom was filling fast with couples and small groups talking to each other. Ginny could see a smaller room branching off from each end of the ballroom, where people would go to relax, talk, mingle, and eat later when the music started and the main ballroom would be restricted for dancing.

 

Blaise took her arm gently, smiling at the wondrous expression on her face as he led her away from the entrance. Remembering her persona for the night, Ginny removed her arm from the crook of his and raised her eyebrow at him.

 

"I agreed to be your date for the evening, Mr. Zabini; that does not mean you should expect anything from me."

 

"Oh, of course not, Miss Weasley. I simply wish for you to enjoy yourself. Would you like me to introduce you to anyone? I believe the Minister is here, and he is an old family friend; I'm sure he'd be delighted to make your acquaintance."

 

Ginny didn't like Minister Funke's policies (she'd voted for Shacklebolt, but he had unfortunately lost, despite the overwhelming support he'd had in his previous term as Minister), and she had no desire to meet the man either. He always seemed so utterly _slimy_ in his interviews, his photo self always smiling a bit too sharply, and his words far too precise. There was just something about him that made Ginny feel ill. She shook her head at Blaise's offer.

 

"No, thank you. I'd much prefer to never meet the man if I can help it."

 

"Thank Merlin for that; he's a horrible person," Blaise admitted softly, smirking. His smirk fell suddenly and he sighed heavily. "My mother is coming towards us. May I ask that you ignore anything she has to say?"

 

"I'll try," Ginny replied with a small shrug, hiding her smile at his request.

 

She vaguely remembered Loretta and her protectiveness over Blaise; Ginny was sure that the Italian witch had never liked her, and doubted she would now.

 

"Mother, this is a pleasant surprise," Blaise said, voice cool and not at all pleasant.

 

Loretta simply smiled, lips a deep red that stretched over her white teeth in a way that looked predatory. "As it is for me, dear Blaise. Now, will you introduce me to your date for the evening, or should I assume that this one won't last either?"

 

Blaise didn't even blink at her comment, and turned to Ginny. "Ginevra, this is my mother, Loretta Zabini. Mother, this is my date for the evening, Ginevra Weasley."

 

"That reporter that wrote that article about you and Draco," Loretta added coolly, raising her eyebrow as she scrutinised Ginny.

 

"Yes, ma'am, I'm _that reporter_. Blaise has offered numerous times to prove my article wrong, but I suspect he's doing it for show," Ginny replied with a slight smirk.

 

Loretta looked between Blaise and Ginny, a smirk forming. "You may be surprised, Miss Weasley. My son _still_ has the ability to surprise me, even after all of these years. Disapparating to another country for six months without a single owl to let me know that he's alive, for example, was a very big surprise."

 

"Merlin, Mother, would you stop bringing that up?! It was over a year ago, and I said I wouldn't do it again," Blaise muttered. "Ginevra, would you like some wine?"

 

"I'm fine, actually, thank you," Ginny replied, smirking at his discomfort. "I'm sure you must have been very worried over those six months, Mrs. Zabini."

 

"Oh, _I was_. It was horrible, not knowing if he was alive or lying dead in a ditch somewhere. I didn't even know if he was still in the wizarding world, or if he'd gone into the Muggle world; it was terrifying!" Loretta said, looking amused when her son reddened and muttered something under his breath.

 

"Right, **I** need wine," Blaise muttered. "Excuse me, ladies. I'll be back when I'm drunk enough to get through this conversation."

 

Loretta laughed brightly. "No need, dear. I think I've just seen your stepfather. Be good, both of you. Lovely to meet you, Ginevra!" she called over her shoulder, heading back into the growing crowd.

 

"I didn't know your mother had remarried."

 

"She hasn't," Blaise replied, shaking his head.

 

" _Oh_."

 

"That sums it up quite nicely," Blaise said with a chuckle. "How about that wine?"

 

"No, thank you. I think I'd prefer to stay sober for a few hours yet," Ginny said.

 

"A good idea if you need to blackmail anyone," Blaise admitted softly, winking at her.

 

"You often blackmail people, then?"

 

"Oh, on a daily basis. I could not go to bed at night unless I had blackmailed someone," he said with a smirk.

 

Ginny rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. "I'm going to go talk to Gabrielle and Chance; I'll see you later, Zabini."

 

"I wouldn't dare think of leaving my date alone," Blaise replied quickly, offering his arm again.

 

"I'll be with Gabrielle and Chance, I won't be alone," she retorted. "Why not go chat up Draco or something?"

 

"I'd much prefer to chat you up, Ginevra," Blaise said, winking at her.

 

Ginny shook her head at him again and headed over to her sister-in-law. Blaise followed after her quickly, murmuring about the guests they were passing.

 

"See that man over there in the grey robes? He's a Duke in Italy, fancied my mother a few years ago - and still probably does, honestly - but he's not rich enough for my mother's taste."

 

"You realise you're telling this to a reporter?" Ginny pointed out.

 

"Yes, but you agreed to the Ball's contract when you RSVP'd to the invitation," he replied with a grin.

 

"What contract? There was nothing written on the invitation about a contract."

 

"Ze fancy border on ze invitation is actually a series of words, stating zat you cannot repeat anything zat 'appens within Malfoy Manor or suffer ze consequences," Gabrielle said, shrugging.

 

"You knew about it and you didn't tell me?" Ginny asked Gabrielle in surprise.

 

"Of course not; I did not think it would be important to you, since you will not talk about it in ze first place," she replied with another shrug. "Now, let me see ze dress you chose."

 

Ginny, still concerned about a contract that she'd apparently failed to see, let Gabrielle turn her around so she could scrutinise her dress properly.

 

"A lovely blue; you look _magnifique!_ What do you zink, Chance?" Gabrielle asked, smiling.

 

" _Oui, trés magnifique_ ," Chance agreed with a warm smile. (French. _Yes, very magnificent._ )

 

"I'd better look magnificent; I spent most of my savings on this dress. Expect to see it at the next wedding, as well as any other special occasions I might have to attend," Ginny muttered.

 

Gabrielle laughed, eyes twinkling as she took a sip of champagne. "It is too bad you did not get it in black, you could 'ave worn it to ze next funeral too."

 

"Gabby, you morbid thing!" Ginny gasped, grinning through her sudden bout of laughter.

 

_Merlin, she shouldn't laugh, but it_ **_was_ ** _kind of funny._

 

Blaise chuckled beside her. "You'd be all over the headlines, that's for sure."

 

"I don't know how I'd deal with such a scandal," Ginny said, grinning still.

 

"I zink you would survive. Ah, zere you are, Draco. 'Ave you finally finished with ze welcomes?" Gabrielle asked, smiling at him over her flute of champagne.

 

"Hardly, but Mother thinks I'd do less damage in here than out there. Probably because there's more alcohol in here," Draco said, smirking.

 

"More? You mean your mother iz drinking out zere?" Chase asked, looking absolutely delighted.

 

"She has probably been drinking since five this afternoon," Draco admitted, smirking.

 

"Hardly; it was at least half past five, Draco. I'd prefer that you not speak such falsehoods of me again," Narcissa added sternly behind him, Draco wincing slightly before turning to face her.

 

"Of course, Mother, my sincerest apologies. Half past five, if you plan on writing that in your little magazine, Ginevra," he added, looking over at her.

 

"Thank you for that, Draco, but as I've been informed, I'm not allowed to print anything about tonight due to a contract in the invitations," Ginny murmured, raising an eyebrow at him.

 

"Yes, well, the other guests are as unaware to it as you were," Narcissa said, smirking a little. "I hope you understand that I cannot have anyone talking about this evening, not when it means so much to so many."

 

"Of course," Ginny replied, sipping at her champagne as she wondered just how much Narcissa knew.

 

"Oh, bloody hell, Mother, I thought I told you not to put Longbottom on the list?" Draco muttered on seeing the newest arrival.

 

"He is doing fascinating work in the field of Herbology, and you _will_ be pleasant to Neville, _especially_ if you want a new Snapping Dragon plant in the next three days," Narcissa replied primly. "And consider yourself sober for the next two hours for speaking to me like that," she added, tapping her wand on his glass before he could react. "Bye, dears. Do enjoy yourselves," Narcissa said over her shoulder as she left to talk to Loretta.

 

"I... I'm not entirely sure what just happened there," Ginny murmured to Gabrielle under her breath.

 

"Don't worry, Narcissa has a reputation to uphold and Draco ensures it stays that way. Narcissa would not drink a drop of alcohol before an event as anticipated as this," Gabrielle replied, her voice quiet as her accent fell away. "It makes for a far more entertaining evening to see who believes Narcissa to be the socialite she portrays herself as, or knows her true side," she added with a grin.

 

"What does Narcissa know about us?"

 

"Nothing firm, or so I've been told. She just seems happy to know that Draco's not off selling love and luck potions on the side of the road," Gabrielle replied with a shrug.

 

"And what are you two lovely ladies discussing so seriously?" Blaise asked, draping his arms around their shoulders.

 

"Nothing of your concern," Ginny replied, shrugging his arm off her abruptly. "I'm going to get Neville, okay, Gabby?" she said over her shoulder, already heading towards her friend.

 

The orchestra began to play as the ballroom doors closed, and Ginny gave a small wave to Neville to alert him that she was there, threading her way around the crowd to get to him.

 

"Fancy seeing you here, Gin," Neville said, smiling as he hugged her warmly. "Where's your date for the evening?"

 

"I left him with Gabrielle and Chance," she replied. "You look handsome, is that a new suit?"

 

"Yes, my old one tore beyond repair. I think the fact that Dennis cut them up with a pair of scissors might have something to do with it," Neville said with a chuckle.

 

"That would probably do it. Dennis not with you tonight?" Ginny asked.

 

"No; he's not fond of these kind of events."

 

"Too many people staring?"

 

"Not enough escape routes," Neville countered, nodding to the pair of double doors that were now firmly closed.

 

Ginny gave a nod of understanding. She had no idea how she was going to get to the library without being caught. A high-pitched giggle distracted her for a moment, and Ginny turned to see Claudia simpering beside Draco, laughing at something Narcissa had said. Narcissa smiled indulgently, but Claudia didn't seem to notice, her hand resting on Draco's arm.

 

"Remind me why it would be a bad idea to hex someone?" Ginny murmured lowly, pretending to press a kiss to Neville's cheek.

 

"Because you would be hexing them for all the wrong reasons," Neville replied. "Come on, dance with me, and we'll make both of them jealous," he said with a chuckle, taking her flute and setting it on a passing waiter's tray.

 

"I hope you're still as light on your toes as you were in Hogwarts," Ginny commented, letting him lead her out to the dance floor.

 

"I should hope so; I've been practising with Dennis."

 

"Well, then I hope I'm as light on my feet as I remember. I haven't practised with anyone," Ginny admitted, grinning.

 

"No problem, Gin; I'll lead, you follow, and we'll both look good," Neville said, giving her a wink.

 

"Good idea," she said with a soft laugh.

 

Ginny flicked her eyes down for the first few steps, following Neville's footsteps carefully, wary until she remembered the steps herself. Neville seemed to realise when she gained confidence in her steps and lead her across the dance floor easily.

 

"So who leads when you and Dennis dance?" Ginny asked.

 

"We take turns. It's always good to know your partner's steps, that way you can help each other if someone forgets their steps," Neville replied. He grinned suddenly and gave a slight nod over her shoulder. "I think Messrs. Zabini and Malfoy are getting quite jealous of me," he said, giving his eyebrows a wiggle.

 

Ginny barely held back from responding with a snort of amusement. "Oh, I don't know if they're jealous of you. I have a wonderful dance partner, and I'm sure they're both jealous of me."

 

"Flattery, my dear, will get you everywhere," Neville said with a wink.

 

"In that case, I need to get out of here," Ginny said, smirking.

 

"Already? Well, if it's an emergency, there is the exit over there; it sets the alarms off though," Neville added, nodding over to a small side door beside the main entrance.

 

"Hmm, probably not a good idea. What if someone needs to use the bathroom?" she muttered, remembering the bathrooms outside of the ballroom.

 

"There are bathrooms in the adjoining rooms. Neither one has doors outside."

 

"At this rate, I'll have to jump out of a window," Ginny muttered, trying to find another exit of some sort. "Balcony. How high up are we?" she queried, thinking of the amount of steps she walked up to the Manor's foyer.

 

"We're still on the ground floor, that balcony just gives the illusion of being higher," Neville replied, then chuckled. "A wizard actually did jump off the balcony last year in an attempt to follow a witch that had rejected him; the idiot went head first and started screaming, thinking he was going to die, and was cut off very abruptly with a mouthful of Narcissa's favourite white roses. I don't think he's been invited to a social gathering since," he mused.

 

"No wonder that contract was written into the invitation," Ginny muttered, shaking her head.

 

"So, what are you planning on doing?" Neville asked.

 

Ginny considered telling him, then shook her head briefly. "I'll tell you once I've actually done it," she said, kissing his cheek as the dance finished.

 

The crowd that had gathered on the dance floor applauded the orchestra's first song politely, Neville turning his gaze to join in the applause as well. Ginny chanced a quick glance to where Blaise was waiting, but he had his head close to Draco's and they were distracted as well. While everyone's attention was diverted, Ginny slipped away, heading towards the adjoining room's balcony door. She needed to get to the library, find the scroll, and return to the ballroom before anyone noticed that she was missing.

 

...

 

End of the thirty-fourth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	35. Chapter 35

Ginny stood on the balcony, eyes wide as she silently tried to tell herself that the drop really wasn't as long as it looked. It honestly did look much higher up than the one floor she logically knew they were situated on, and Ginny had no desire to go plummeting five stories just to complete her mission. _Maybe there was another way out of the ballroom without drawing attention?_

 

Looking over her shoulder, she saw a small group heading towards the balcony doors. Ginny winced and jumped before they saw her. It took all of her willpower not to scream, but as she fell, Ginny could see the spell changing around her, and suddenly, the ground was much too close for comfort. She bent her knees the best as she could while falling and landed on her feet, the motion jarring but not enough to make her cry out too loudly. Glancing up, Ginny could see the small group of wizards and witches talking and laughing with each other, all of them too preoccupied to notice her. Realising that her knuckles were practically white around her purse, Ginny eased her aching hand and loosened her grip on the clutch. Heading towards the front door, Ginny cleaned her shoes before she stepped up on the manor's front steps. It wouldn't do to get this far, only to be discovered by a house elf that was desperate to clean any mess she made in the foyer with her dirty shoes.

 

Ginny made her way into the manor, closing the door behind her softly and waiting a heartbeat to ensure that she wouldn't be seen. Hopefully, all of the house elves would be busy with the party and not realise that she was wandering around the manor unaccompanied. She remembered where the library was from one of Ginevra's visits, and Ginny took a moment to decide whether or not she should pretend to not know where the library was, or if she should just head straight there. She supposed that if it was an official mission, then she would have received the layout of the manor and known exactly where the library was. Besides, if she lingered too long or made it seem as if she was lost, a house elf would most likely turn up and she would be caught. With that in mind, Ginny headed straight towards the library without lingering.

 

She ensured to keep her breathing even, her pulse calm, and walked without looking down side hallways and at tapestries. Dawdling meant house elves, which meant getting caught. Ginny waited a second at the library door, listening intently to ensure that no amorous couples had left the party already to be alone, then opened the door and slipped into the room. She took a moment to breathe in deeply, the scent of books as old, magical, and pure as her family line filling her, and then Ginny stepped past the small entry to scour the shelves for a red-ribboned scroll. It seemed that the house elves knew a thing or two about alphabetising their owners' books, and Ginny saw that the scrolls were kept in a separate section, probably so as not to be squished under the large and weighty Malfoy collection of tomes.

 

The scrolls were each tied with individual ribbons, slotted into their appropriate places, and there were so many that they filled an entire wall of pigeon-holed boxes. Unfortunately, the scrolls didn't seem to be in any sort of order as the books had been, and Ginny realised that her anxiousness was starting to rise. If it got much worse, a house elf would appear for certain. She took another deep breath and started looking at the bottom row of scrolls. Black, black, green, silver, blue, purple, black, _puce?_ Ginny winced and continued along quickly. The scroll wasn't along the bottom row, nor the two above it, and Ginny rolled her neck, trying not to get too tense. A flash of colour caught her eye, and she looked up far above her line of sight to see a red ribbon hanging from a scroll, one that was closer to the top of the bookshelf than the bottom where she was currently standing.

 

 _Ha, found you!_ Ginny thought triumphantly, heading over to the ladder at the end of the wall. She stilled before touching the ladder, noticing a small charm plaque fixed to one of the ladder's rungs.

 

 _'Please wait and house elves will assist you_. _'_

 

 _Ooh, no they would not!_ Ginny thought, her hand dropping to her side quickly. She was lucky that there hadn't been such a charm on the library door itself.

 

She didn't have her broom handy, she doubted that the ladder was the only thing that was charmed so she couldn't exactly climb the bookshelf itself, a levitation spell was tricky to perform on oneself even when they weren't under this sort of pressure while wearing a _very_ expensive dress, and Ginny knew that doing an ' _Accio red-ribboned scroll_ ' was risky when it was clear that the house elves had charmed the library. In fact, because of that very reason, Ginny wasn't entirely sure that she would be able to _take_ the red-ribboned scroll, even if she did manage to get to that height successfully.

 

Running a hand through her hair in frustration, Ginny hissed as she caught one of her curls, a few strands of hair floating out from between her fingers. As she watched them twirl and descend to the ground, the three strands staggered as though they were individual steps, Ginny knew how to solve the first of her problems. Transfiguring the strands of hair into actual solid and physical steps took almost four whole minutes, but it was worth it. A levitation charm had the bottom steps moving in front of her, the charm continuing as Ginny stepped up and up, climbing higher towards the top of the shelves. She stopped in front of the red-ribboned scroll, swaying precariously on the small step, breathing in a deep breath and refusing to look down.

 

Ginny reached out for the scroll, the ribbon glowing slightly as her fingertips neared it. She pulled back with a soft curse, listening intently for any arriving house elves. A few seconds passed, and Ginny knew that she'd be missed from the party sooner rather than later. Deciding to take a risk, Ginny stretched her arm out, snatched the scroll out of its little cubed hole and clutched it to her chest. No house elves arrived, no alarms sounded, and Ginny breathed in relief. Forcing herself to concentrate, she descended the same way she'd ascended, using the steps to get to the ground once more. The spell faded from the strands of hair, and Ginny snatched them out of the air, holding them just as firmly as the scroll; it wouldn't do to leave such blatant evidence behind.

 

Leaving the library as fast as she dared, Ginny glanced over her shoulder to ensure the door had closed firmly behind her - an ajar door would raise suspicion, especially in Malfoy Manor where all doors were closed and rooms kept tidy by the house elves - and headed back towards the main entrance. Hearing the sound of footsteps, Ginny ducked into a small alcove behind one of the knights in armour, and kept herself hidden. The footsteps neared and Ginny held her breath, hoping her heart wasn't hammering as loud as it sounded in her own mind. She clutched the scroll tighter still, listening intently as the footsteps stopped and paused briefly, a soft curse muttered, and then the person started walking again. Ginny refrained from letting out a large sigh of relief when she realised that the footsteps were heading away from her now, rather than towards her small hiding spot.

 

Waiting until she could no longer hear the footsteps - and then waiting a few more seconds, just to err on the side of caution - Ginny peeked out into the corridor. There was no one around, and it looked as though the coast was clear. Shrinking the scroll was the work of a few seconds, and Ginny tucked it into the small purse she carried with her, along with the three strands of hair. The clutch had been one of Ginevra's purchases, a year and a few months ago, created specially by Monsieur Grillet. The purse not only changed colour to match her outfit, but also had charms sewn in to ensure that no one besides Ginevra would be able to open it.

 

Feeling more confident, even if she did get caught, Ginny made her way through the corridors to the front door without stopping. She saw nor heard anyone else, and a small sigh escaped her as she stepped outside into the fresh air. A breeze had picked up, and she stood on the front steps for a moment, taking a moment to breathe properly for the first time in minutes. Glancing up to the sky, Ginny saw that barely ten minutes had passed since she first jumped off the balcony. It was long enough to be missed, and she sorely hoped that Neville had kept Blaise preoccupied for her.

 

Heading back to the balcony, taking care not to step in the garden, Ginny opened her clutch and retrieved the three hairs. Creating the floating staircase took less time now that she was more confident with the spell, but she had to stay hidden to the side of the balcony to ensure that it would be empty before jumping back onto it. A particularly amorous couple were certainly taking their time, and Ginny wondered if it would be rude to cough and hurry them along.

 

Touching her wand to her throat, Ginny thought of a spell, felt it take hold, and then started growling softly. The spell threw her voice so she wouldn't be discovered, and as she growled louder, the couple jumped apart. It was well known that the pets that the Malfoy's kept weren't all as beautiful and tame as their brilliant white peacock. After a wary glance over the balcony (Ginny growled even louder, and she heard a shriek in response), the couple retreated inside quickly. Removing the spell, Ginny continued her staircase up to the balcony, jumped down and grabbed the strands of hair before the breeze could whip them away. After checking that her shoes were clean, and brushing off the few stray leaves that had stuck to the bottom of her dress, Ginny went back into the ballroom with a smile. Her mission was accomplished for the night.

 

Within seconds of re-entering the ballroom, Blaise sidled up to Ginny, offering her a glass of white wine.

 

"You look awfully pleased with yourself. Catch a certain couple snogging out on the balcony, did you?"

 

"Maybe," she replied, taking the offered glass.

 

"Did you happen to see whatever it was that had Agatha and Raoul coming back in here, both pale as ghosts?" Blaise asked curiously, taking a sip of his wine.

 

"No, but I think it was a creature that was getting rather tired of their display," Ginny said, trying not to smirk too much when Blaise chuckled.

 

"Does this mean you're warming up to me now? I very much doubt that I would enjoy the night half as much if you were giving me the cold shoulder the whole time," he admitted.

 

Ginny thought about it for a moment, taking another sip of her wine. "Slowly," she answered eventually, shrugging. "I'm surprised you're not with Draco still."

 

Blaise scowled over at the dance floor, and Ginny followed his gaze to see Draco dancing with Claudia. Draco looked charming and Claudia suited him well in that sense, but for Blaise and Ginny, who knew how to see beyond Draco's façade, they could see that he was desperate to get away from Claudia.

 

"How long have they been dancing together?" Ginny asked, trying to sound curious rather than jealous.

 

"For the last two dances; the entire time you've been on the balcony, in fact," Blaise said, not bothering to hide his jealousy at all.

 

"Well, in that case, would you care to cut in?" Ginny asked.

 

"Love to," he replied with a wide grin, taking her glass and placing it on a passing waiter's tray.

 

Blaise offered his arm to her with a flourish. Ginny rolled her eyes but took it anyway, and they stepped onto the dance floor together. In the crowd, Ginny could see Chance whispering in Gabrielle's ear. Gabrielle nodded, and Chance beamed happily, walking towards the dance floor as well. The music changed slightly, a more lilting tempo than the previous song, and Ginny recognised it as the opening song for the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts. She almost cursed aloud when all of the couples took their positions, and Ginny quickly copied them. She had barely remembered the steps for this dance when she was _at_ Hogwarts (thank all the stars for Neville's guidance), and nearly six years later, Ginny had little to no hope of remembering the steps now. Dancing something normal, like a waltz or foxtrot, was completely different to the intricate little steps involved in this horrid dance.

 

"Breathe, Gin. It's one dance, we'll survive," Blaise murmured under his breath, hoping to reassure her.

 

"But will everyone else?" Ginny asked, remembering how often she'd stepped on her own toes just practising this dance.

 

Blaise didn't get a chance to reply as the dance started, and Ginny almost faltered on her first step back. _It was meant to be her left, not her right foot! Damn_.

 

 _I could help, if you'd let me?_ Ginevra's offer came through, almost sounding hesitant.

 

As she saw Chance and Gabby dancing together, as perfect and flawless as the rest of the dancers, Ginny was desperate enough to agree. Ginevra didn't take control, but Ginny's hands adjusted themselves, and her steps became confident rather than faltering. Blaise seemed to notice the change, raising an eyebrow questioningly at her, but he didn't ask anything.

 

As she was continuing through the steps, flashes of her first dance with Neville helping her remember the steps easier, Ginny realised that the lift was coming up soon. She tried to keep her body relaxed so she wouldn't be as stiff as a board for Blaise. He gave her a wink as his hands moved to her waist, lifting her without a pause or even a grimace. She moved in a little closer to his body once she was set down, but Ginny couldn't say if that was her own decision or influence from Ginevra. Either way, she wasn't going to complain.

 

The dance ended, and Ginny smiled at Blaise briefly before turning and applauding the small orchestra along with the rest of the dancers. Blaise guided Ginny by her elbow gently, both of them heading towards Draco and Claudia before anyone else really noticed.

 

"Draco, may we cut in?" Blaise asked without any preamble.

 

Draco barely glanced at either of them. "I've promised the next few dances to Claudette."

 

" _Claudia_ ," Claudia said, looking torn between a pout and glare; it obviously wasn't the first time Draco had called her by the wrong name.

 

"Of course, my apologies."

 

Blaise looked ready to say something else, but the band started another slow tempo to prompt the dancers to remain or guests to leave the dance floor.

 

"I think I'd like a drink, Blaise. Is there anything stronger than wine?" Ginny asked, looking at him.

 

Blaise nodded curtly, offering his arm to her without the flourish this time, and led her towards one of the tray-laden waiters. He smiled his most charming smile at the young wizard as he took not only two glasses, but also a full bottle of Firewhisky.

 

"Firewhisky, zis early in ze night? Something iz bothering you, no?" Gabrielle asked, coming over with Chance and their own drinks in hand.

 

"Nothing Firewhisky and the company of three gorgeous women won't fix," Blaise said gallantly, making the two glasses hover in front of him so he could pour a generous amount of Firewhisky into both.

 

"I'm afraid the company of two women will have to suffice for now, Blaise. I see Pansy, and I'd like to say hello," Ginny said.

 

Blaise looked as though he wanted to accompany her, so Ginny slipped away before he could offer, taking her glass of Firewhisky with her.

 

Pansy saw Ginny before she arrived at the small group gathered around her, and gave a slight nod, then turned and smiled warmly at the people around her. "I apologise, but I have an urgent matter to attend to. Please excuse me," Pansy said, leaving before anyone could stop her. Pansy smiled, the action forced, and nodded towards the end doorway that led to the adjacent room. "Keep walking, pretend we're talking about something important."

 

"Well, hello to you too, dearest Pansy," Ginny said, smothering her laugh by taking a sip of her drink.

 

"I've dealt with enough pleasantries tonight to last me for the rest of the year. Shit, there's the Minister. Just keep walking," Pansy muttered.

 

Ginny glanced over to the Minister of Magic, frowning slightly as they passed him without the man looking over once. "He looks fairly unpleasant."

 

"He is very unpleasant, actually. Sour bastard who only cares about money, and he's managed to replace most of the higher-ups in the Ministry with people who either agree with him or can be paid enough to agree with him," Pansy groused, moving over to a soft love seat to sit down.

 

Ginny sat next to her, quiet as she watched Pansy rub her stocking-covered scarred legs with a slight wince.

 

"I always forget how much I hate these heels until I've worn them for four straight hours," she groaned, slipping her feet out of their confines.

 

"The party hasn't been going on for that long, surely?"

 

"No, but I help ensure that the guest list is sorted and everyone will be attending while Narcissa ensures the house elves are prepared for the night, so I've been here for much longer than the rest of the guests."

 

"That's how you get everyone invited," Ginny mused, shaking her head slightly in amusement and disbelief.

 

"I'll have you know it takes a lot of persuasive arguing to ensure everyone's invited. Narcissa might not know about Cloffice, but she definitely knows society. Took me three tries to convince Narcissa to invite Dennis, and the third attempt only stuck because I suggested he come as Neville's guest. That was the year Neville published his article in that wizarding botanical journal that made him popular in the botany world, and Narcissa couldn't _not_ have him attend."

 

"He was proud of that article," Ginny said, remembering Neville's moment of pride fondly. "I needed a botanical dictionary to understand half of it, but that's not the point," she added, laughing.

 

"I had to call in a favour from a herbologist in the Ukraine to translate it for me," Pansy admitted with a wry grin. "So, have you completed your mission yet?"

 

"What mission?" Ginny asked, playing dumb.

 

She had the sudden thought that this could be yet another test; she had no idea who to give the scroll to once she'd retrieved it, after all. Those details hadn't been included on her small piece of parchment, and Ginny didn't want to bollocks it all up by giving the scroll to the wrong person.

 

"The one on your coat receipt. Red-scrolled ribbon from the library," Pansy answered, smiling briefly as if she'd expected Ginny's question and suspicion.

 

Ginny nodded. "All done."

 

"Good to know. I'll collect it from you tomorrow. Do try to be clothed this time, won't you?" Pansy added with a grin.

 

Ginny had a sudden memory from Ginevra of Pansy walking in on her, Draco, and Blaise the morning after their last Malfoy Ball together, all three of them completely naked. Pansy had refused to leave, even as Draco cursed at her for waking them so early, and she simply waited for them to retrieve their items from various hidden pockets in their fallen clothes - a lock of hair, a gaudy gold pin, and a embroidered handkerchief. The gold pin that Ginevra had stolen from the Minister's secretary had been discovered a week later, the magical signature showing its owner as the secretary, and it was then discovered that a French ambassador was having an affair with the wizard in order to gain access to British Ministry secrets. It had been the scandal of the month, but not one mention of Centaur Liaison Office was mentioned, and that's the way the covert office preferred it.

 

Looking over to where Blaise was still talking with Gabrielle and Chance, and then to Draco with Claudia still clinging onto his arm, Ginny smirked and looked back to Pansy. "I make no promises."

 

Pansy laughed, and took her glass from her. "Well, I think it's obvious that you've had quite enough, don't you?" she asked, sipping at the Firewhisky. "Go on, you head back in there and have fun; I need to rest for a moment longer. Oh, and you _can_ warm up to Blaise, you know; most people here are already bordering on tipsy and won't remember a thing in the morning."

 

Ginny hummed in thought, watching as a couple swayed on the dance floor rather than danced along with the others around them. "Yes, I suppose that's true. I do enjoy teasing him like this though," she added with a wink, taking her drink back before she stood to return to the main ballroom.

 

Pansy's laughter followed her, and Ginny grinned as she sipped at her Firewhisky once more, heading back to where Blaise waited. Neville gave her a nod as he headed to sit by Pansy. She glanced over her shoulder to see him offer her a small salve of cream to ease her aching feet, and Ginny was glad for her friend's thoughtfulness.

 

She turned her attention back to where she was walking, and stopped a mere centimetre short from colliding with someone. Halfway through apologising, Ginny stopped when she saw it was Draco. He gave her a wink, turning them around so he could avoid being seen by Claudia.

 

"Having fun?" she asked.

 

"Not an ounce. If I have to dance with Claudette one more time, I might step on my own foot to get out of here. In fact, if you get me out of here right now, I'll give you every Galleon in my vault."

 

Ginny thought about it for a moment, then grinned and threw the rest of her Firewhisky in Draco's face. Draco looked surprised for a moment, his expression melting down to a smirk, and as he wiped off the sticky liquid from his face, his smirk changed into a look of disgust.

 

"Well, I _definitely_ have to go change now. I couldn't _possibly_ dance like this," Draco said loudly, though no one was listening.

 

He gave Ginny another wink and then Apparated with barely a noise. Blaise was grinning when he stopped in front of Ginny a few seconds later.

 

"I think you just helped Draco break his own record; last time we only managed to get him out after an hour and a half," Blaise said with a chuckle.

 

"What did you two do?" Ginny asked curiously.

 

"I think he set someone's dress on fire. Possibly Narcissa's, I don't exactly remember that night very well," Blaise admitted.

 

"How long do you usually stay? The whole night, or do you leave with Draco?"

 

"To be honest, I've never lasted long enough to see one of these Balls wind down. They're all a bunch of wild party animals," Blaise said.

 

"Yes, I can imagine they are," Ginny commented, barely hiding her grin on seeing a man that was older than her great-grandfather stumble past.

 

"Well, since one of our hosts have left for the night, let me know when you'd like to leave."

 

"Have you had enough time to do whatever you needed to do?" Ginny asked, hoping she sounded cryptic enough to be ignored by anyone listening to them.

 

"Oh, plenty. Finished that by the time you'd left for the balcony," Blaise said, winking.

 

"Show off."

 

Blaise shrugged, as if used to the slight. "I wouldn't say no to one more dance," he added, offering his hand.

 

Supposing that she had teased Blaise long enough, Ginny placed her empty glass on a tray (it was floating now, the waiter either hiding or trapped by the masses), and took his hand with a smile.

 

"Would you like to lead?" Blaise asked with a grin.

 

"Actually, yes," Ginny replied.

 

Blaise didn't even blink at her answer and simply moved his hands to the appropriate position. Ginny listened to the tempo of the music, decided on a simple waltz, and then started to lead Blaise in their dance. He moved backwards with ease, murmuring comments about the witches and wizards that surrounded them, and Ginny tried not to laugh the entire time she led him through the dance.

 

They finished their dance, then swapped so Blaise could lead the next, Ginny feeling completely at ease. She noticed Morrigan and Jordan dancing nearby and gave her friends a pleased smile as she and Blaise passed. Morrigan looked a bit tipsy with her red cheeks, and seemed happy enough to sway with Jordan on the dance floor. Jordan didn't seem inclined to look away from Morrigan at all, and barely nodded in return to Ginny. She hid a smile against Blaise's shoulder, not minding in the slightest.

 

"I think I'm all spun out now, Gin. Would you care for food, drink?" Blaise offered.

 

"Let's get out of here," she said, smiling up at him.

 

"Thank the gods," he breathed, pressing a firm kiss to her mouth.

 

As one of their hosts had already left the Ball, the main ballroom doors opened as they neared, and after speaking with a house elf briefly, Blaise guided Ginny over to the robe check area. Handing over her slip of parchment, Ginny soon had her robe on once more, and when Blaise had folded his own robe over his arm, they headed outside to where the house elf was waiting with their carriage.

 

The journey down to the guest Floo area felt shorter than the trip to the Ball at the start of the evening, and all too soon, both Blaise and Ginny were Flooing to Zabini Manor for the night.

 

...

 

"I've showered _three_ times and I still can't get rid of that horrid, overwhelming, disgusting perfume!" Draco shouted from Blaise's ensuite.

 

"Not all of us have such delicate senses as you, love," Blaise called back.

 

The shower stopped running, there was some muttered cursing, and Ginny watched in amusement as Blaise rolled his eyes and loosened his tie.

 

"I think she actually bathed in it," Draco groused, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

 

"Love, where's your suit?" Blaise asked, nodding pointedly towards Ginny.

 

"I'm burning the damn thing; the furnace will still probably stink for days," Draco muttered, missing Blaise's motion.

 

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm perfectly accepting of both suits _and_ towels," Ginny mused, resting her chin in her hand as she looked between them.

 

Draco snorted, striding over to kiss her firmly, one hand cupping the back of her head. Ginny sighed contently. Then her sigh turned into a choking sensation and she had to pull away, her senses overwhelmed by the scent pouring from Draco.

 

"I'm sorry, but you're right, that perfume really is awful. I'm surprised the whole ballroom didn't stink of it," Ginny said, stepping back and scrunching her nose up.

 

"Call a house elf to get rid of it if soap and magic won't," Blaise said, staying far back.

 

"You gave your house elves the night off," Draco said with a pout.

 

"Oh, right. Go back to the ball?"

 

"Not happening; I might get stuck in there again."

 

"George got doused in that foul-smelling potion of his last year; he might be able to help," Blaise suggested.

 

Ginny moved back again when Draco passed her to get to the fireplace. George answered the firecall after a few minutes, his hair a mess and his pyjamas askew.

 

"Why are you calling me half-naked, Malfoy? Why is my sister in the room while you're calling me half-naked? If you're going to leave her for me, at least have the common decency to - "

 

"George, shut up. A very hands-y witch stunk like four bottles of perfume and I can't get rid of the smell," Draco said.

 

"Congratulations?" George said through a wide yawn.

 

"You remember the spell you used after getting that potion smell off of you last year?" Blaise called from the back of the room.

 

"No, 'cause I didn't do the spell," George said, "Ginevra did; she also did it silently to punish me because I'd promised not to work on the Fertiliser Fresheners again that week," he added.

 

Draco and Blaise both looked at Ginny, and she held her hands up. "I had no idea, honest."

 

"Can you remember the spell at all?" Draco asked desperately.

 

"It'll wear off eventually, love; maybe just try another shower for now?" Blaise suggested.

 

"If I have another shower, I'm going to become a prune."

 

"Can I go back to bed now?" George asked with another yawn.

 

 _I'll let you see the spell I used_ , Ginevra said suddenly. _Under one condition_.

 

 _What condition is that?_ Ginny asked warily.

 

 _You let me tell you about Amelie. You'll need the information sooner rather than later, and you are being far too stubborn and hard-headed to ask on your own_ , Ginevra muttered.

 

Ginny knew she'd agree, if only to make Draco stop looking at her like a wounded Crup ( _and to stop him smelling like Claudia's perfume_ , a small jealous part of herself added), but it meant more than simply getting the spell. She still didn't completely trust or forgive Ginevra, not after abandoning her in Training Centre Four the way she had.

 

 _You won't expect me to hear about Amelie tonight, will you?_ Ginny asked finally.

 

 _Of course not. I wouldn't deny our boys any more than you would_.

 

 _Fine_.

 

Ginny lifted her wand, holding it with a grip that felt utter alien compared to her usual way, and she noticed that George had fallen asleep again. Whatever Draco and Blaise had been talking about went quiet as they realised that she'd drawn her wand. Ginevra smirked at them, raising an eyebrow mockingly for them taking a whole three seconds to notice.

 

"Gin?" Blaise asked cautiously.

 

"Hey boys, miss me?" Ginevra asked, winking at Draco.

 

 _Get on with it_ , Ginny gritted out.

 

 _It's been a long time since I've been able to speak with them, you might have a bit of compassion_.

 

 _Two minutes, and then I'm taking over whether you've done the spell or not. I don't care who's perfume Draco smells like_.

 

 _Yes, you do_.

 

"Ginevra?" Draco asked, somewhat pale and eyes widening.

 

"Got it in one. Now, let's get rid of this potion, shall we?"

 

"What do you mean _potion?_ " Blaise asked, holding her wrist to stop her from doing anything.

 

"Whatever was put in the perfume is masking it pretty heavily, but there's still a scent of a lust potion underneath it. If Draco smells it for too long, he'll become attracted to the person wearing it, and them only. Upgraded version of a love potion," Ginevra explained.

 

"Then get it off me sooner rather than later, love," Draco muttered, splaying his arms to either side.

 

Ginevra looked at her wrist pointedly, and Blaise let go a moment later, his fingertips brushing against her skin. She gave him a quick smile, then concentrated and thought the spell, completing the accompanying wand motion along with it. Abruptly, the floral scent disappeared from the room, and Draco let out a sigh of relief.

 

His sigh was cut short by Ginevra moving forward to snog the daylights out of him. Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close as he kissed her back.

 

"Couldn't resist, love," Ginevra said. "Blaise, wake Forge up so he can go back to bed, would you, love?"

 

Blaise pressed a kiss to her cheek as he passed by to the fireplace.

 

"Ginny's pissed at me for kissing you. She's also a little pissed at you for kissing me back," Ginevra added.

 

Draco let go of her abruptly. "Ginevra, you..."

 

"Yeah, I know. Like I said, I couldn't resist. Just one more thing for Ginny to be pissed off at me for," she replied, shrugging.

 

Ginevra stepped back, her body shaking slightly, and in a matter of seconds, Ginny was back at the surface of her mind once more.

 

"Seriously, Draco? She wasn't even out for two minutes, and you already had your tongue down her throat!"

 

Draco had no idea what to say to that, if there was any way to argue with Ginny's comment and win, and looked over his shoulder to Blaise for help. Blaise winced and shrugged, but offered no salvation, and Draco was on his own.

 

"Um... Thank you for getting rid of the potion," he said, hoping he sounded grateful rather than guilty.

 

"You're welcome. I'm going to deal with that witch later. For now, Blaise gets to fuck me and you get to watch. You're not allowed to orgasm until I say so," Ginny added firmly.

 

Draco nodded, accepting his punishment easily enough. Blaise had already told him that Ginny wasn't happy about being compared to Ginevra, so he wasn't surprised that she was unhappy about him kissing her as Ginevra. The whole Ginevra aspect of Ginny's personality showed that there really was a stark difference between the two, even though they occupied the same body and mind.

 

"How long has Ginevra been... in you?" Draco asked, feeling as though he was walking across an emotional minefield.

 

"Long enough to be a pain in my arse," Ginny muttered.

 

"So, not long then?" Draco quipped.

 

Ginny snorted her laughter and shook her head at him. "At first, I thought that it was my conscience. You know, that little voice in your head telling you not to do this or that? Turned out to be a past version of myself I can't even remember."

 

Draco pulled her into a hug, Blaise joining them at Ginny's back a second later, and she sighed heavily between them.

 

"It's all right. I'm used to it. Her voice, at least. I mean, some of the things she's done... Or more, hasn't done," Ginny trailed off and shook her head the best she could while between them.

 

Draco recognised the expression on Blaise's face, watching as his mental cogs whirred and turned, putting things together in a way that never ceased to amaze him.

 

"Training Centre Four?" Blaise hazarded a guess.

 

"She left me in there by myself."

 

Ginny's admission was quiet, and Draco had to strain to hear her, but when he realised just what she meant, his arms tightened around her and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

 

"Ginevra never did things without a very good reason, Gin. She might not have wanted to leave you alone, but she might have had to, to protect both of you. It's difficult to transition between two remembered states, just like using a Time Turner and having two sets of memories," Blaise murmured, ever the practical one.

 

 _That's what I've been trying to say all along_! Ginevra pointed out.

 

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and clung on to Draco harder. "It still hurt. Almost as much as the torture itself," she admitted.

 

Blaise tapped Draco's arm, his signal that he wanted access to Ginny now, and Draco reluctantly let go so Blaise could turn Ginny around properly. He hugged her just as firmly as Draco had, and she rested her head on his buttoned shirt with a heavy sigh.

 

"We're here for you. Whatever you want or need, no matter how small, okay?"

 

Ginny nodded. Draco moved to hug her and Blaise again, all of them silent for a few moments as Ginny controlled her emotions once more.

 

"I still want what I said earlier," Ginny murmured.

 

"Well, I don't think we'll ever say no to that," Blaise said, kissing her lips gently.

 

Draco conjured a chair to sit on and watch his lovers, sitting as close to the bed as he dared. He watched as they undressed each other, kissing and touching each other, falling back onto the bed together. His towel was beginning to tent, but he kept his hands away for the moment, content to watch as Blaise teased Ginny with his fingers and tongue. It was only when Blaise slid into Ginny, moaning against her shoulder at the feel of her around him, when Draco allowed to take himself in hand. He was aching, already leaking, but Draco forced himself to go slow, to match the controlled rhythm that Blaise had begun. He sighed in relief when less than half an hour later, Ginny forgave him and let him join her and Blaise on the bed. Draco certainly didn't need to be told twice.

 

...

 

End of the thirty-fifth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	36. Chapter 36

Pansy barely waited for her knock to be answered before walking in to Blaise's bedroom. She was almost surprised to see all three of them dressed - admittedly, Ginny was wearing Blaise's shirt, and Blaise and Draco were merely in pants, but it was more than they'd been wearing _last time_.

 

"I'm not even going to bother asking how you got through my wards _again_ , Pansy dearest," Blaise said off-handedly.

 

"Good, because I'm still not going to tell you how," she replied with a smirk. "Gin, you have something for me, I believe?"

 

Ginny nodded and rummaged through the pile of clothes and shoes on the floor to find her purse. Finding it a minute later, she took out the red-ribboned scroll, returned it to its original size and held it out for Pansy. Without a word, Pansy untied the ribbon, skim-read the scroll, then threw it into the fireplace and set the parchment on fire.

 

"Congratulations on succeeding your task."

 

"Wait, that's it? All of that for... _that_?!" Ginny asked, pointing to the burning parchment.

 

"Yes. Did you expect something more?" Pansy asked, both curious and cool.

 

"Kind of, yeah. Something more than a five-second skim-read."

 

"I read all of the information I needed, the scroll cannot be returned to the Malfoy's library without alerting anyone to the fact that it was missing, and I cannot have that information falling into the wrong hands. So, what else do you suggest that I do?"

 

Well, Ginny couldn't exactly think of an answer to that.

 

"At least you didn't try to read the scroll; that never ends well," Blaise said, smirking.

 

"Did those boils ever go away, or is poor Zachary still stuck like that?" Draco asked with a smirk of his own.

 

"They faded after his three-month probation," Pansy replied. "If you'd like to hand over your items, I'll leave you three to your day."

 

"Oh, before you go, Pans: what was Claudia's mission for last night?" Blaise asked as he found his robes and emptied out the various pockets.

 

"You know I can't divulge other's missions, Blaise," Pansy said with a sigh; they'd obviously had the conversation before.

 

"No, no, nothing like that. It's just that she tried to use a love potion masquerading as a perfume to get to Draco. If her mission wasn't to make him fall in love with her, then I'm just wondering if I need to hex the witch," Blaise said, handing over a silver ring.

 

"Hey, that's my mother's ring! Blaise, you bastard, when did you even steal that?" Draco asked.

 

"When I was thanking Narcissa for inviting me. I did a spell to make everyone believe that the ring was still on her finger, and your poor mother didn't even notice that I'd taken it. In fact, if Gin had made me leave the queue any earlier, I might not have completed the spell at all," Blaise added.

 

"It was a difficult spell to notice; it took me longer than I'd like to admit to notice it," Pansy admitted.

 

Blaise seemed proud at that. Draco finally found his item tucked in a handkerchief and handed the locks of blonde hair to Pansy carefully.

 

"That's more strands than I expected," Pansy said.

 

"I simply mentioned how much I loved her hair colour and she practically cut off a lock of hair herself," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I thought we taught better security than that?"

 

"Whose hair is that?" Ginny asked curiously.

 

"Claudia's," Draco replied.

 

"Do we dare ask why you needed her hair?" Blaise asked Pansy.

 

"No, you'd better not. I'm not paying you enough to know that," Pansy replied with a slight grin.

 

"Right; I'm not sure I want to be paid enough to know that, then," he muttered.

 

Pansy shook her head at him.

 

"Since I'm working at _The Quibbler_ for the next three months on probation, do you want to set up a lunch date, Pansy?" Ginny asked.

 

Pansy's expression softened a touch and she nodded. "I'd like that."

 

Ginny grinned. "I'll owl you on Monday then?"

 

"I'd better owl you first; owls that aren't registered with Cloffice rarely reach me," Pansy said.

 

"Is that why you never replied to our lunch invitation?" Draco asked.

 

"No, I just didn't want to eat lunch with you two. I already did enough of that at Hogwarts: I've seen how you two eat when you're irritable and hungry, and it's not pretty," she added.

 

Ginny snorted in laughter, Draco and Blaise offended and glaring at her. By the time Ginny had composed herself again, Pansy had Disapparated without a sound or word of goodbye.

 

"It's terrifying how she does that," Draco muttered to Blaise, who nodded in agreement.

 

...

 

Ginny headed back home after eating breakfast with Draco and Blaise, her agreement with Ginevra playing on her mind to the point where she almost Splinched herself. She arrived to find a note from George saying that he was out to see a man about a Horklump: that was their code to say that he was out on Cloffice business and not to expect him back before their lunch date. His note was sitting atop the newest edition of _The Quibbler_ , which included her 'apology' article to Blaise. It basically stated that he was a gentleman among wizards, the Malfoy Ball was everything she had expected and more (and that's all she could say), and that her previous allegations about Blaise and Draco sleeping together were misinformed.

 

It was as close to an apology as they would get; Ginny doubted there would be any further comments from Blaise or Draco on the matter. At least, not publicly. They'd had plenty to say about it that morning, after all. Most of it was between laughter at how the 'misinformed allegations' were true because they weren't _sleeping_ when they were together anyway. Ginny didn't know whether to laugh or groan at their terrible innuendos.

 

 _I take it you're ready to hear about Amelie now, as per our agreement?_ Ginevra asked after Ginny sat on the lounge and made herself comfortable.

 

 _As ready as I'll ever be_ , Ginny replied shortly, still upset with Ginevra.

 

_That's good enough. For now._

 

Ginny closed her eyes, expecting Ginevra to start talking. However, like falling into a Pensieve, she found herself falling into a memory instead.

 

...

 

Ginevra was anxious for her three-month probation to finish. She had been counting down ever since she had started this mind-numbing job within the Ministry, passing on relevant information and gossip dutifully to Pansy whenever she requested it. While she had pride over the changes she'd seen happen with that information, Ginevra wanted to get out into the world to do _more_. Finally, after waiting for so long, Ginevra only had two days left.

 

She headed to her luncheon with Pansy and Gabrielle with a bounce in her step that hadn't been there for the last two months and twenty-eight days.

 

"You're looking awfully chipper," Pansy commented as she slid into the booth across from her and Gabby.

 

"Two days left and I've finished my probation," Ginevra replied, not even bothering to hide her excitement.

 

"Has it been three months already? I thought it was only two," Pansy said, her brow furrowing as she frowned.

 

"Oh, no, you're not pulling this shit on me again. It's been three months and you _know_ it. Tell her, Gabby."

 

"It has been three. My clothes know it, after eating lunch out nearly every day for three months," Gabrielle muttered, looking down at her shirt.

 

"You look as lovely as ever, Gab," Pansy said, patting her hand.

 

"Oh, you must be excited for the weekend, right, Gabby?" Ginevra asked, grinning.

 

"I 'ave no idea what you are talking about," Gabrielle muttered, her accent heavy and her cheeks pink.

 

"You're introducing Jean to the family. _Finally_ ; I thought mother was going to have a fit if she didn't meet your girlfriend sometime this decade."

 

"We might not after all; Jean is... Well, she doesn't like being paraded around in front of other people. It was hard enough to get her to meet Fleur and Bill at the same time. All of ze family at once might be too much for 'er," Gabrielle said, shrugging.

 

"It's not a parade, Gab. She's just going to meet everyone, then you'll eat lunch and escape before mother calls on people to do the dishes. Everyone's partners have done the same, and it's relatively painless; just ask Fleur. Besides, I'll be there to support both of you," Ginevra said with a grin. "If Jean gets overwhelmed, you two Disapparate, and I'll take the fallout."

 

Gabrielle bit her lip, still looking worried. "You promise?"

 

"Of course."

 

"All right, I'll convince Jean tonight," Gabrielle said.

 

Pansy shared a quick look with Ginevra, and she knew that Pansy was worried that Gabrielle had to _convince_ Jean of anything. Family was important to Gabby, even her extended family in the Weasleys, and everyone who knew Gabby well enough knew that. _Jean should know that too and_ ** _want_** _to meet the people so important to her girlfriend, surely?_ Ginevra gave a slight shrug in response, hoping it would turn out for the best on the weekend.

 

"Good afternoon, wonderful ladies. You want your usuals?" Marco asked with a grin.

 

 _Ginny recognised Marco as the owner of_ The Horse's Hooves _, and was surprised to see him here as a waiter. Ginevra paused the memory to tell her that Marco was their waiter and chef for three months; he had made it known that he wanted to make enough money to have his own restaurant and they had always tipped him well for the good service and food. Pansy had talked of providing him enough money to start his own restaurant with the provision that it would be a safe house for her agents._

 

They ordered their usual lunches and drinks, Marco leaving a moment later.

 

"Tell me it's three months and I can get out of this job, Pans," Ginevra begged.

 

"Maybe it's been two-and-a-half months?" Pansy mused, and Ginevra could see a twitch on her lips that proved she was joking.

 

"Not funny, Pans. Not funny at all," Ginevra groaned.

 

"It was a little funny," Gabrielle said, smirking.

 

"Ugh, I hate both of you."

 

"No, you don't," they answered in unison and without hesitation.

 

"Tell me what I'm doing when I get out of this place, please, Pans?"

 

"You'll find out in two days, just like the others."

 

"Fine. I'm going to call in sick for the next two days and stay home fucking Draco and Blaise instead."

 

"Do that and I'll make you **all** stay on probation for another month."

 

"You wouldn't dare!"

 

"Wouldn't I?" Pansy replied, smirking at her coolly.

 

Ginevra sighed heavily. "Fine."

 

"I thought it would be. Now, what's the latest gossip at work?" Pansy prompted.

 

Ginevra reported the Ministry gossip dutifully, continuing even when their lunch arrived, and finished her meal between words or when Pansy or Gabby talked instead.

 

 _Two whole days and she didn't even have a hint of what to expect afterwards to get her through. Damn_.

 

Thinking that the next two days would drag on, Ginevra was almost surprised when Friday evening came and she realised that she wouldn't be coming back to the Ministry on Monday morning. _Merlin, she bloody well hoped not!_

 

She had dinner with Draco and Blaise, all three of them nervous about what the next day would bring. They all had individual meetings with Pansy to discuss their future within Cloffice, and they were so highly strung that they spent the night training to the point of exhaustion rather than fucking or doing any other more pleasurable activities.

 

Waking up on the training mat the next morning, Ginevra reflected that it was probably a poor choice of bed for the night. She didn't blame the house elves for leaving them where they'd fallen; the last time a house elf had tried to move them to their bed, Blaise had almost stabbed the poor thing with his sword in his sleep.

 

A clock struck eight in the hallway, and Ginevra swore loudly, realising that she was going to be late for her appointment with Pansy at nine. Her swearing woke Draco and Blaise up, and they all threw their swords to the side before rushing upstairs to the bathroom. Ginevra reached the shower first, but that didn't matter to her boys, both of them crowding inside. Draco decided that they had time for sex after all, and well, Ginevra couldn't argue with that.

 

She finished her shower feeling much more relaxed, and spent a few minutes drying herself before heading into the bedroom to get dressed. Draco and Blaise spent a few more minutes in the shower by themselves before following suit. Ginevra had finished changing into her pants, top, heeled boots, and even fixed up her hair by the time Draco and Blaise joined her in the bedroom. Ginevra kissed their cheeks and pushed them towards the walk-in closet.

 

"You're going to be late if you don't get changed, boys," Ginevra called, heading downstairs to eat breakfast.

 

Her stomach was in knots over her anticipation, but she forced down some tea and toast, and felt somewhat better for it. Draco and Blaise stumbled in to the dining room a few minutes before Ginevra was due to leave, both dressed in a similar fashion with pants, shirts, and boots, and they kissed her eagerly in turn.

 

"Now, take a deep breath, don't forget your training, and always remember that we love you," Draco said, watching as Ginevra breathed in deeply.

 

"But especially remember that last part. You can forget the training if you like," Blaise said with a snicker.

 

"Oh, of course. Now, both of you... Deep breath, remember your training, and that I love you, too."

 

Draco and Blaise breathed in deeply, a tad dramatically, but her boys had always been a bit over the top and Ginevra didn't love them any less for it. Ginevra smiled and kissed them each, squeezing their hands tightly before stepping back and Apparating.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Ginevra was no longer smiling.

 

...

 

"I don't see what this has to do with Amelie. And thanks for adding in the shower sex, that was a nice touch," Ginny muttered, scowling.

 

_I am getting there, now stop interrupting. If_ **_I_ ** _have to deal with you having sex with our boys, then you can do the same for me._

 

Ginny muttered obscene words under her breath, but Ginevra just laughed.

 

"Hey, Gin. You're home, I thought that was you," George said, coming into the lounge room with a yawn. "Did you get Draco to stop smelling, or was that a very weird dream I had?"

 

"It wasn't a dream. And I'd thank you to not proposition my boyfriend while I'm right there."

 

"He was the one that firecalled me half-naked," George replied, grinning as he turned to head to the kitchen. He needed tea.

 

"So not the point, Forge."

 

George froze. "What did you call me?"

 

"Forge; it's what I always used to call you. Well, before that little memory repression I went through, at least. I'm sharing my memories with Ginny. Amelie's memories, really, and she's letting me say hi to you. She's stubborn, isn't she?"

 

"As stubborn as you've always been. You're in Ginny's head?" George queried, a little confused.

 

"You mean Pans didn't tell you? Oh, Forge, what's been going on with you two? She would've told you that the same day I told her before all of this."

 

George shrugged, though his chest ached. "Things change. We couldn't stay together with everything else falling apart around us."

 

Ginevra made a noise of displeasure, and gave him a half-hearted glare. "It's when everything's falling apart that you need to stay together the most. Don't let it happen again this time."

 

"What do you mean 'this time'?" George asked.

 

Ginevra laughed, sour and bitter. "Why do you think I've been coming back? It's not just to deal with Little Miss Stubborn, y'know. Things are going from bad to worse, and I can't run away and hide this time."

 

"Any chance you can elaborate on the bad to worse part?" George asked hopefully.

 

"Not a chance, Forge. It's way above either of our pay grades," Ginevra replied, grinning.

 

"All right, I think that's _quite_ enough now," Ginny muttered. "Sorry for waking you last night, George. Did you get enough sleep?"

 

George was a little startled by the sudden transition between his sister and ... well, his sister, but gave a brief nod. "Enough to live. I'll have a better sleep tonight, I'm sure. I've got to get to the shop soon, but I'll come back for lunch, okay?"

 

"Look forward to it," Ginny said with a smile. "Oh, and I'm not stubborn!"

 

"Yeah, you are, Gin," George said, laughing as he headed into the kitchen again.

 

 _I take it you want me to continue?_ Ginevra asked.

 

Ginny nodded and closed her eyes.

 

...

 

"You're to leave for Nepal in two hours. Your international Apparation license has been granted, and is in the envelope, along with your instructions. You'll be there for a month, and if you do not complete this assignment in this time-frame, you will have another three-month probation period before being reconsidered for field duties," Pansy informed Ginevra.

 

"Two hours? Do I get any say in this at all?"

 

"Yes, two hours, and no, you don't. You were practically begging for field work two days ago, Ginevra, don't tell me that you're going to refuse it now?"

 

"No, I'm not going to refuse. I'm just surprised, that's all. It's more sudden than I realised. Do I get time to say goodbye?"

 

"George is here to say goodbye and pass on any messages. Your family will believe you are being sent on a job for the Ministry and be in a remote region without any way of communicating," Pansy added.

 

Ginevra nodded firmly and took a deep breath.

 

"You might like to read your instructions while I retrieve George for you," Pansy added, a slight twitch on her lips as she stood up from behind her desk and headed to the door.

 

Ginevra barely waited for the door to close behind Pansy before ripping open the envelope and reading the parchment. She would be going to Nepal, staying in a wizarding village within the Muggle Annapurna Conservation Area, and would be escorting a herbologist into the Kali Gandaki Gorge, the deepest gorge in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. Apparently, the herbologist was married to an Unspeakable working in the Time Room within the Department of Mysteries. Due to the herbologist's work, as well as their marriage to an Unspeakable, they were a high profile target for either kidnapping or an assassination. Unspeakables marrying common witches and wizards was rare enough, and if anyone wanted to access the Time Room with a supposed store of Time Turners still safely hidden away, they would most likely use the herbologist as a way to force the Unspeakable's hand.

 

The herbologist had made several enemies within the academic world with their findings and publications, a high percentage of which disputed the claim that the Horklumps were a beast and had no discernible use. While the Horklump was listed in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them with a single X Ministry of Magic (M.O.M.) classification (meaning _boring_ ), the herbologist was arguing the fact that it was actually a plant, just somewhat more self-aware than most flora. The Horklump was native to Scandinavia, it had spread throughout northern Europe, and there had been several sightings of the creature/plant in Nepal, which was the herbologist's main reason for travelling to the country.

 

 _All of this over a plant_ , Ginevra thought to herself. _Neville might kill me for thinking that_ , she added with an internal snicker.

 

She was about to return the parchment to the envelope when Ginevra noticed one more piece of information at the bottom: Draco and Blaise were to go with her.

 

Ginevra was _seething_ by the time Pansy and George returned, and she barely acknowledged her brother's presence. "I'm being babysat while I'm babysitting? Do you think I can't do this on my own?"

 

Pansy didn't bother responding to her outburst, calmly moving around the desk until she was seated once more. "There are rumours that people have been hired to either assassinate or kidnap the herbologist to either ensure they do not publish their findings, or to gain access to the Ministry's Department of Mysteries. We are sworn to protect the people and the Ministry, and despite what you think, this is not a babysitting job. One of you will be required to protect the herbologist and ensure their safety while in the gorge, and the other two are to stay in the village and ensure that no kidnappers or assassins complete their mission. Any kidnappers or assassins that you come across are to be kept alive if possible and turned in to Cloffice.

 

"Of course, if you think that this is nothing more than a babysitting job, I am more than willing to find you something behind a desk instead," Pansy added.

 

"I just don't see why it's necessary for three people," Ginevra muttered.

 

"I am doing it as a courtesy to all three of you; would you prefer to go with one, or neither? There is another in your graduating group that I'm sure would love the opportunity," Pansy pointed out, fully aware of Ginevra's dislike for the wizard.

 

"It's fine; I'd prefer Draco and Blaise. Thank you, Pans," Ginevra said quickly.

 

"You'd better be; it took **a lot** of explaining as to why I was sending three people on that mission instead of two," she muttered. "I've got interviews with Draco and Blaise now, so you have ten minutes to say goodbye to George. Then I suggest you head home and pack. Nepal is cold this time of year."

 

"So, who is this herbologist, anyway? You're not going to protect Neville, and just having one big holiday for a month, are you?" George asked, grinning.

 

"Obviously not; Dennis doesn't work in the Department of Mysteries, and he and Neville aren't married anyway," Ginevra replied, shaking her head.

 

"They might be, y'know. I'm pretty sure if they did get married, it would be a small affair with the celebrant there under an Unbreakable Vow not to utter a word about who they were marrying or they'd face certain death."

 

"If I come back in a month to find out that you've become a celebrant and have married off Neville and Dennis without me being in the damn country, I will make you regret it," Ginevra said firmly.

 

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a second, dearest sister."

 

"Good. Now, since I'm not going to be at the family lunch tomorrow, you have to look after Gabby and Jean, okay? Jean's worried about being paraded around in front of everyone, and I promised Gabby, so you have to promise me, okay?"

 

"All right, I promise to look after Gabby, and I'll try my hardest to not let our family overwhelm poor delicate Jean."

 

"Hey, don't be a bastard; you know that our family is overwhelming even when they've got everyone's best interests at heart," Ginevra pointed out.

 

"I know, I swear I do. I'll look after them," George promised, hand over his heart.

 

"Thank you. Now, give me a hug, and tell me everything will be fine."

 

George nodded seriously, pulling Ginevra into a firm hug. "Everything will be fine if you don't fuck it up, and I know you won't fuck it up."

 

Ginevra laughed against his shoulder and hugged him tightly in return. "Say goodbye to everyone for me. Try to lessen the blow that I didn't say goodbye myself, and make sure mother doesn't owl me. I'll be trying to keep someone else alive."

 

"Hm, true. It's hard enough for you to keep yourself alive sometimes," George said, grinning wickedly, laughing when Ginevra whacked his arm. "You'll do fine, Gin. This is an easy starting job, trust me. If you're lucky, it will be like a holiday and you'll be appropriately disillusioned for your next job."

 

"I'd prefer not to be disillusioned if I can help it, Forge."

 

...

 

"And I'm _still_ not seeing the point to this," Ginny interrupted. She had agreed to hear about Amelie, not all of this other useless information.

 

 _I am getting there, but we have to take the long way round. Now shut up and keep listening_ , Ginevra snapped.

 

...

 

Two weeks later, Ginevra was almost used to the elevation and then the sudden drop that she experienced every day by Apparating with Millie from the middle of _Annapurna I_ mountain over 4,000 metres above sea level, down to the bottom of the Kali Gandaki gorge over 5,500 metres below sea level. Travelling the 9,500 metre difference in the span of seconds was not something that Ginevra had enjoyed. Draco and Blaise had both tried, taking their own turns to protect the herbologist in the gorge, but had been so ill after their attempts that Ginevra had to take over as the primary protection detail while they stayed in the village.

 

Nicole was a pleasant woman to protect, even if she became over-excited at times and rushed off the self-imposed trail they'd created to look at a different species of plant instead. Ginevra found herself guiding Nicole back to the Horklumps that were growing in the gorge most of the time. The rest of the time she was setting up wards, checking that the trail was safe, and investigating the different worrisome noises she heard over the course of the day (Ginevra had spotted 42 different bird species so far).

 

Nicole usually chattered away about Horklumps or plants in general, and Ginevra had learnt more about flora than she even knew existed. If Nicole became too engrossed in her work of cultivating or testing the Horklumps, she often trailed off or stopped speaking completely, and while it had freaked Ginevra out to start off with, sure that Nicole had been kidnapped right under her nose with the way the her talking suddenly stopped, she was used to it now. Instead of focusing purely on Nicole's idle chatter, she listened for the sound of her boots on the forest floor, the rough scrape of her thick material, the squelching noises the Horklumps made when Nicole neared, their tentacles digging into the ground further.

 

Draco and Blaise had spent their time in the village, keeping warm by the fireplace, and listening to local gossip. They'd been the cause of most of the gossip in the first few days, two witches and two wizards arriving at the Annapurna wizarding village so late in the year and with winter on their heels, but it soon died off and reverted back to the usual gossip of a small village. By the end of the first week, they knew nearly every shopkeeper by name, if not sight, and had promised to take Ginevra to the local glass blower's shop further up the mountain.

 

With two weeks of Nicole's grant-paid research passing, Ginevra was sure that the next two weeks would be much the same: Apparating 9,500 metres far too early in the morning, then Disapparating back up the 9,500 metres in the mid-afternoon when the sun no longer reached the bottom of the gorge, and not much else in between. She was proven wrong that very afternoon when she Disapparated with Nicole and a few Horklumps back up to their small house, only to have Draco and Blaise pull her aside when Nicole went to do some more testing on the Horklumps they'd gathered.

 

"Someone else is in the village. One witch and one wizard, not locals, not tourists, and not friendly," Draco muttered.

 

"How do you know they're not tourists?"

 

"They don't have the right currency, or the right clothes for this time of year," Draco replied.

 

"Doubtful that they're planning on being here for very long," Blaise added.

 

"Did you get photos?" Ginevra asked, keeping her voice quiet.

 

Nicole was just as easily worried as she was excited, and if Ginevra could keep her from finding out about this, she hoped that it might be resolved without Nicole ever knowing.

 

"Yes, several. We've already sent them to Pansy to try to find out who they are. She hasn't replied yet."

 

"Then we'll have to keep an eye on them until we know exactly who they are. They might just be nothing more than badly prepared tourists," Ginevra murmured.

 

"Doubt it, but we'll make sure they stay away from you and Nicole," Blaise said with a firm nod.

 

"Thanks, boys," Ginevra said, kissing them firmly, wrapping her arm around Draco's neck and pulling Blaise in close.

 

" _Ooh, Gin! Look at this! I think it's oozing!_ "

 

"Oh, you _can't_ miss out on that," Draco said with a grin, nudging her towards Nicole's workroom.

 

Ginevra gave him the middle finger, but grinned back at them both before she headed into the workroom to see what Nicole was talking about.

 

Later that night, long after Nicole had gone to bed, the fireplace lit up with an incoming firecall from Pansy. Apparently, the witch and wizard in the village were assassins for hire, and they were well known as they _never_ missed their target.

 

Ginevra was nervous the next day, though she tried to stay rational, telling herself over and over that Draco and Blaise were dealing with the threats and that she and Nicole would be fine. She was right; Draco and Blaise had trained with her in Cloffice, after all, and they were just as good at their jobs as she was. They had cornered the assassins, taking them by surprise after they'd followed decoys that looked like Ginevra and Nicole, and before the witch and wizard knew what had happened, they'd been Portkey'd internationally back to Cloffice where Pansy waited for them. When she'd heard what had happened, Ginevra almost felt sorry for the two assassins; travelling internationally by Portkey was almost worse than her 9,500 metre Apparation. Almost.

 

The next week was full of exclamations and excitement on Nicole's part, but was quiet for the other three. Nicole claimed that she didn't need to go down into the gorge now that she had Horklump ooze to work with, and while Ginevra was glad she didn't have to Apparate so early in the morning, she found that she was somewhat bored with nothing to do.

 

Draco and Blaise ensured that Nicole would be fine on her own for the afternoon, warding the small house until it was difficult to walk around, and then took Ginevra out as they'd promised. The glass blower that lived further up the mountain was ancient, but knew his craft better than anyone else in the world, and while her boys were distracted, Ginevra commissioned a piece of work for them.

 

When they arrived back that evening, Nicole had collected three whole jars of Horklump ooze and planned on sending various samples to people in the potions industry to see if there was a use for the Horklump after all. They were no longer needed in Nepal, as the Horklumps in this area had simply migrated to avoid being eaten by gnomes, and any Horklumps found in northern Europe would suffice if more ooze was needed.

 

Pansy congratulated them on a job well done, ensured that Nicole was escorted home safely, and let Ginevra, Blaise, and Draco have the next week off. They spent the first two days sleeping off their Apparating lag and the rest shagging.

 

Draco and Blaise worked with her for most of the jobs Ginevra was given: a job in France with the Minister of Magic that resulted in his scandalous ways being featured on the front pages of the paper; another job in Russia that involved too much vodka on Draco's part. Ginevra also worked with others - Skeleton and the Herbologist in France, and Holey Forge in Egypt - but she was lucky to be given most of her missions with Snow and Storm.

 

After yet another successful mission together and another week off to recover, Pansy arrived at Zabini Manor four days later to offer Ginevra another job, this one on her own.

 

...

 

"Seriously, a whole job about Horklumps? I get that Horklump juice is used in healing potions now and you must be very proud, but Horklumps still look like weird hairy cocks, no matter what healing properties they have."

 

 _You don't want to know how Nicole extracted the ooze from them_ , Ginevra said, smirking.

 

"You're disgusting."

 

 _I've been waiting more than a year to make that joke; not even the boys know how the ooze was extracted. Although, Blaise did mention that they looked like hairy cocks as well, so I doubt you're the only one that thinks so_.

 

Ginny tried not to laugh too much, and Ginevra continued.

 

...

 

"What's so important that you had to drag me away from the boys, Pans? You gave us all a week off, remember? We're barely started day five," Ginevra said, adjusting the pair of briefs she was wearing and buttoning Blaise's shirt as she followed Pansy into the library.

 

"Yes, well, some of us aren't sex maniacs like you three. Honestly, have you bathed at all this week? I swear the whole Manor stinks of sex."

 

"I had a bath just last night, actually. Draco and Blaise joined me, would you like the full sordid details, or perhaps you'd like to explain why you're here?" Ginevra offered with a grin, knowing how much Pansy hated to hear anything about Draco or Blaise.

 

"What I'd _like_ is to be in my office for this, but apparently that's not going to be a viable option considering your state of undress," Pansy muttered, raising her eyebrow at the uneven buttons on the shirt Ginevra was wearing.

 

"It's difficult to button up a shirt and walk at the same time," Ginevra muttered, tugging at the hem of the shirt self-consciously.

 

Pansy looked to the armchairs that were organised around the room, and with a flick of her wand, two armchairs were facing each other. She sat on one and nodded to the other. Ginevra realised that Pansy was putting on her serious face, much like the one she had when determining what Ministry gossip would be useful or not, and stayed quiet as she sat down across from Pansy. Pansy barely waited for her to be seated before erecting a sound-proof shield around them, ensuring that no one outside of their little bubble would be able to hear them.

 

"I need you to go undercover for a company in wizarding France. They're a front for an organisation that..." Pansy trailed off for a moment. "Well, let's just say that they don't have the wizarding world's best interests at heart. We know that they're bad, but we just don't know how bad or what their end goals are. I need you to go in, find out what they're doing, and report back to Cloffice."

 

"All right."

 

"I haven't finished, Ginevra. Just wait and _think_ about this before you blindly agree to it. Please," Pansy added.

 

Ginevra sat up a little straighter and nodded firmly.

 

"The job will be undercover, and it will not be a short one. You will not be the first that we're sending to this company, and after the loss of Regis two months ago, this is not a job to be taken lightly. I need someone to send in that won't be recognised, won't be thought of as a Cloffice agent, someone who can stay there undercover for as long as it takes to get the information. I need someone who can hide their alter-ego better than anyone else I know."

 

Ginevra could hear the desperation in Pansy's voice, but she didn't let that sway her for the moment.

 

"Who else are you considering?" Ginevra asked.

 

Pansy glanced to the library door behind Ginevra, and she knew that she would be one of three possible candidates. They'd trained together, knew just as much as the other did, but they all had their specialties. Pansy was right in saying that she could hide her alter-ego better than others; where Ginny had been tested on her emotional response to Harry and Cho in public, Ginevra had been tested to face her mother in the street and not be recognised. She had done so well that Pansy hadn't even been sure that she was evaluating the correct person until Ginevra had removed all of the Glamours and charms she'd used.

 

"How long do I have to think about it?" Ginevra asked.

 

Suddenly, she was all too aware of the fact that she was being offered what sounded like a very important job while wearing her boyfriends' shirt and briefs.

 

"Time is of the essence with this job, Ginevra. I need an answer within the hour," Pansy said.

 

"Do I get any more details, or this is all I can be given?"

 

"Until you decide, this is all you'll be given. If you accept, you'll get the rest of the information you need from Shadow and Whisper."

 

Ginevra shuddered at their names, but nodded.

 

Pansy stood up, but before removing the shield, she looked down at Ginevra sombrely. "I don't have to tell you not to discuss the details of this job with anyone, do I?"

 

"I won't, Pansy. Not even Draco and Blaise," Ginevra added before she could reply.

 

"Good. You can tell them that I've offered you a job overseas, but nothing more. I'll be back for your answer in an hour."

 

"You could stay?" Ginevra offered.

 

Pansy shook her head. "Sorry, Ginevra, but I can't. I need to organise things in the next hour that I couldn't possibly get done here. If you don't have any more questions, I'll leave you to think about it."

 

Ginevra nodded, distracted as she thought of the pros and cons of staying or leaving for this job. She barely noticed as the silence shield was removed, and only realised that Pansy had Disapparated when Draco and Blaise came into the library a few minutes later to find her sitting alone. They were dressed in nothing more than pants, barefoot and shirtless as they approached her, their wands hanging in their grips loosely by their sides.

 

"Everything all right, love?" Draco asked.

 

"Pansy offered me a job," she replied, voice slow and hesitant as she continued to _think-think-think_ , desperate for an answer: _yes or no?_

 

"Well, that's good. Not another one in the Ministry, is it?" Blaise asked, moving to sit on the armrest beside her.

 

"No. It's overseas; I don't know how long I'd be gone."

 

Draco sat on the other armrest next to Ginevra, tugging a lock of her hair until she rested her head against him. He started to stroke her hair gently, easing the tension out of her slowly but surely.

 

"Would you be able to owl us?" Blaise asked a few moments later, his own hands working to roll up the sleeves of the shirt Ginevra was still wearing.

 

"I don't think so."

 

Draco's hand stilled in her hair briefly, and she felt him exchange a look with Blaise, then he resumed stroking her hair a second later.

 

"Is it the kind of job you hoped it would be when we first started this whole thing?" Draco asked.

 

Ginevra knew exactly what he was talking about: they'd spent several nights discussing where they thought Cloffice would lead them, the type of jobs they thought they'd receive once they had finished their training, just what use they could be as agents in a secret organisation. Ginevra had admitted that she hoped it would be something like spies, going undercover to find out things that no one else in the wizarding world knew. It looked like she was right.

 

"Yes," she whispered.

 

"You're contemplating saying no to this job because of us, aren't you?" Blaise asked.

 

Reluctantly, and somewhat awkwardly with Draco's fingers still entangled in her hair, Ginevra nodded.

 

"Well, that's ridiculous, love. We'll still love you whether or not you have to go undercover. Just... try not to tell us any details of the honeypot missions, all right?"

 

"Except if they're horrible in bed, then we can all laugh about it," Draco added, untangling his fingers carefully.

 

Ginevra couldn't help but laugh at that, and shook her head at Draco before tugging him down for a kiss. She turned and kissed Blaise as well, her hand curled up in his hair.

 

"Now, if you're going to say yes and leave us miserable and alone, we're going to need some way to remind ourselves of your everlasting love for us."

 

"You're making her sound like a gobstopper, Dray."

 

Draco hopped off the armchair and ignored Blaise's comment. Blaise slid down the armrest until he was crammed in next to Ginevra. She moved to accommodate him better, and he pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her firmly as they watched Draco browse the bookshelves. Blaise let out a small huff, resting his chin on Ginevra's shoulder.

 

"Whatever he's doing, he's taking forever," Blaise groaned.

 

"Patience," Draco called over his shoulder, pulling a book off the shelf and flipping through the pages.

 

He must have decided not to choose that book after all, because Draco placed it back on the shelf and grabbed another. He did this with five more books before he was satisfied, and brought it over to where Blaise and Ginevra were sitting. Draco tapped his wand on the small side table next to the armchair and a drawer appeared. He opened it and took out a pencil, underlining a few things in the book carefully, then handed it over to Ginevra.

 

Ginevra looked at the words he'd underlined, not comprehending what he'd done for a second. Trust, love, desire, understanding, love, love, love. Blaise read over her shoulder, his hands covering hers and threading their fingers together on the cover of the book.

 

"Well, I think I found my new favourite book," Ginevra said, taking a mental note of the page number: 315.

 

"Good. You find yourself a copy wherever you end up, we'll keep this one, and we'll always remember the truth, no matter what happens," Draco said, moving to kneel in front of her and pull her in close for a kiss.

 

Blaise kissed his way along her neck and exposed shoulder, waiting his turn as they always did. Ginevra clutched the book to her chest and kissed Draco back as firmly as she could, as if she was trying to imprint the feel of his mouth on her lips. Draco pulled away, breathing heavily and his lips swollen. Ginevra barely had time to lick her own swollen lips before she was being turned around in Blaise's lap to kiss him as well. She kissed him just as eagerly and firm as she had with Draco, both of their chests heaving as they pulled away a minute later.

 

Pansy arrived a few minutes later, her Apparating as silent as ever, and coughed loudly to announce her arrival.

 

"Merlin's beard, Pansy! Get a bell or something!" Draco muttered, falling back onto the carpet.

 

"That would defeat the purpose of being able to Apparate silently," Pansy said with a smirk. "Have you decided, Ginevra?"

 

"Yes. I'll do the job under one condition: I get a copy of this book when I'm undercover," she said, showing the book to Pansy.

 

She seemed intrigued at Ginevra's request, but didn't question her, and simply nodded in return. "I'll make sure of it personally. I've got George waiting at Cloffice to say goodbye. He'll have to pass on any messages to your family if you have any."

 

Ginevra nodded, stood up, and then winced when she realised that she still wasn't dressed properly. "Give me a minute to change?"

 

"You have thirty seconds," Pansy said, looking to her pocket watch.

 

"Shit," Ginevra cursed, thrusting the book in Blaise's general direction before Apparating upstairs to get changed.

 

Draco and Blaise were half a second behind her, helping her by clipping up her bra and sliding her knickers on as Ginevra put her hair up into a bun. She stepped into a pair of pants that Blaise offered, let Draco button up the shirt that she slipped on, and Accio'd her socks and boots. Ginevra sat on the bed once they'd both finished their tasks, pulling on her socks and boots in quick succession, and kissed Blaise and Draco in turn before Apparating with them back downstairs.

 

"Thirty-six seconds. Not bad," Pansy commented with a brief smile.

 

"Does that mean we don't make the national team?" Draco asked, sneering.

 

"Qualifiers were last week," Pansy retorted immediately, sneering back at him. Her expression softened as she looked between them. "I can give you another minute to say goodbye if you need?"

 

"If I take another minute, I'll never leave," Ginevra said, knowing it to be the truth. Still, she turned to Draco and Blaise, pulled them in tight for a hug and kissed their cheeks. "Be good for me, boys. I'll see you both when I get back. Draco, make Blaise laugh at least once a day, and Blaise, keep Draco away from the vodka."

 

"That shouldn't be too hard, love. You look after yourself, and make sure you come back to us, okay?" Blaise murmured, kissing her cheek.

 

"You can leave Blaise if you like, just come back to me," Draco said, kissing her other cheek.

 

"I wouldn't leave him anymore than you would, don't even joke about that," Ginevra said, trying to keep her voice steady. She turned to face Pansy once more and nodded firmly.

 

Pansy held out her hand, Ginevra stepped forward to take it, and without a sound, they both disappeared.

 

...

 

"Did you actually read that book, or just always skip to page 315?" Ginny asked curiously.

 

 _I read it several times, in fact. I couldn't be seen only reading the same page over and over, and the book wasn't all that bad_.

 

...

 

The farewell with George was brief, Ginevra telling him to look after everyone, tell them that she'd gone overseas for her job at the Ministry since they didn't know she was no longer working there, and that she would be uncontactable until further notice. They all knew that the latter part would be the most difficult for the rest of the family to believe, and George was granted permission to use any charm or spell he saw fit to stop them from contacting Ginevra while she was undercover. The resulting gleam in George's eye was somewhat terrifying, but Ginevra was used to it by now, and simply hugged him tightly before leaving with Pansy again.

 

Ginevra soon discovered that Cloffice's headquarters had more than the four levels she had thought there to be. A door that she was certain had never been there before appeared in the wall when Pansy approached it, a series of flicks with her wand showing it to Ginevra as well. The door opened to reveal an elevator and they stepped inside silently, Pansy pulling the lever to go to down to the seventh level.

 

"What's on levels five to six?" Ginevra asked curiously.

 

"You'll only ever find out if you have to be taken to them," Pansy replied cryptically, her words sending a cold shiver down Ginevra's spine.

 

The elevator door opened to the seventh level, a room with seven black doors and nothing else. Pansy walked to a door without hesitation and Ginevra followed her, straining to hear something behind the other doors to determine just what this place was. She couldn't hear a thing.

 

Pansy opened the third door and indicated into the darkness. "Shadow and Whisper are waiting for you."

 

Ginevra swallowed her fear, a thick lump in her throat, and nodded. "Do I have time for one more goodbye?"

 

"I can't get your family..."

 

"Not them, Pans. You," Ginevra said.

 

Pansy seemed surprised at her response, but nodded nonetheless. Ginevra let out a small sigh of relief and hugged Pansy firmly, just as firm as she'd hugged Draco and Blaise and George.

 

"I'll miss you, Pans. Take care of Gabby, all right? We both know she's better off without Jean, but it'll take some time for her to agree. And look after George, he's going to be a miserable old sod and sulk, I know he will. Most importantly, I want you to take care of yourself. Don't work so late if you can help it, go out once in a while, make sure you live outside of these walls, okay? Promise me that."

 

"I promise," Pansy said, neither one knowing at that time that she was lying. "Now get in there before _I'm_ the one that refuses to let you go."

 

Ginevra gave her a smile, then stepped into the pitch black room without looking back. The door slammed shut behind her, but Ginevra didn't even flinch. She was ready for this job, this mission, and everything it entailed.

 

Suddenly, a bright light shone out of the darkness and directly onto her face.

 

" _Your name is no longer Ginevra Molly Weasley. You are Amelie Léa Dupont._ "

 

...

 

End of the thirty-sixth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	37. Chapter 37

"Gin, c'mon. That's enough now. You've been staring at the ceiling for almost an hour now, and I'm starving. We're going to lunch, as promised, and then you can come back and stare at the ceiling for the rest of the day if you like," George promised, cajoling her out of Ginevra's memories.

 

Disorientated, Ginny blinked a few times and took a moment to remember where she was.

 

George grinned down at her. "Welcome back, dearest sister. Lunch?"

 

Ginny nodded and sat up slowly, the room spinning nonetheless. She groaned, holding her head in her hands.

 

"Headache?"

 

"Yeah, just a bit," she muttered.

 

"I'll get you a potion. Drink some water while you're waiting," George ordered, producing a goblet of water with a flourish of his wand.

 

"Stop moving so much, Merlin's beard," Ginny moaned, ending with a slight whimper.

 

George put the goblet into her hands and left to get a headache potion from the bathroom.

 

Ginny was surprised that Ginevra was silent, but figured that sharing memories was probably exhausting for Ginevra as well, and she was almost pleased at the brief reprieve. George returned with a headache potion for her, and Ginny gulped it down as fast as she could.

 

"Don't choke to death on a headache potion, dearest sister. It would make for a terrible headstone."

 

Ginny was too busy concentrating on waiting for the headache potion to work to glare at George.

 

"Wow, it must be one hell of a headache, sister. Are you sure you want to go out for lunch?" George offered, voice somewhat softer now.

 

Blinking and feeling her headache clearing up, Ginny gave her brother a quick smile. "I'll be fine once I've eaten; let's get out of here."

 

"Ah, there's the Gin I know and love. Hungry _and_ demanding; a wonderful combination, as always."

 

"Thanks, George," Ginny deadpanned.

 

"Ever so welcome, dearest," George replied, offering his arm to her to Side Apparate.

 

Ginny took it and George Apparated immediately.

 

"Next time, remind me to wait at least a minute before Apparating after a headache potion. Bloody hell," Ginny groaned.

 

George snorted beside her and patted her arm condescendingly. "Now, now, Ginny,  you should know better than to drink and Apparate."

 

"Not funny, George."

 

"Oh, it was a little funny."

 

Ginny straightened up, hoping the headache potion would continue to work after Apparating, and looked around the restaurant's foyer. She frowned slightly, realising that she actually had no idea where they were.

 

"George? Where are we?" she asked quietly, somewhat confused that they weren't going out for their usual simple lunch at the _Horse's Hooves_ or the _Hog's Head_.

 

"Surprise, we're at _Mermaid's Medallion_."

 

" _Mermaid's_... Oh, shit, George, I am not dressed for _Mermaid's Medallion_! And how did you get a reservation here, anyway? The menu at this place costs more than I make in a month!" she hissed at him, tugging at the hem of her far-too-plain shirt.

 

"Don't be ridiculous; the menu here is more than you make in a week," George said flippantly. "I know the chef, so he got me a table. And you look fine. Just put your hair up," he added, glancing at Ginny as the maître d' made her way over to usher them into the restaurant.

 

"Good afternoon; do you have a reservation?"

 

"Yes, Mr. and Ms. Damera."

 

"Of course. This way," the maître d' said, leading them through the restaurant to their table.

 

Ginny hurried to put her hair up in a quick bun as they followed the maître d', and at least felt somewhat better, if not better dressed for the restaurant by the time she and George sat down. The maître d' produced two menus for them, then left them to their waiter. George asked for water, and the waiter left after giving him a nod.

 

"How do I look?" Ginny asked quietly, wincing as she thought of the state of her clothes.

 

"Here, let me," George offered, doing a few spells to straighten her clothes and some other silent ones that Ginny felt flutter over her face as a Glamour.

 

 _Probably just to remove the bags under my eyes_ , she thought to herself, tempted to touch the area, but resisting the temptation.

 

"So, who are the Dameras?" Ginny asked, looking at the menu.

 

"Us, dearest sister," George said, grinning slightly.

 

Ginny frowned. "Correct me if I'm wrong, dearest brother, but I certainly don't remember changing my name recently. Did we steal some poor couple's reservation?" she asked, only half-joking.

 

George laughed at her question, and as he did so, Ginny saw a slight shimmer to his face that had nothing to do with the large windows or overhanging chandelier. Concentrating on the now-obvious Glamour, Ginny watched as her brother's face changed slightly, his chin broadening, his freckles disappearing, his eyes changing to a bright blue, and his red hair lengthening to a brown crop of hair that was tied back. Now that she had noticed the change, she had to wonder just what Glamours George had put on her.

 

"I'm offended and hurt that you would think so little of me, dearest. As you can see, the Damera family tree has recently been altered," George added with a broad grin. He glanced around, his posture relaxing slightly when he was certain they weren't drawing anyone's attention. "Damera's a name I use out in the field with this guise. I've had this reservation for a few weeks now, and it's sure to draw attention to the fact that I'm here. If I'm lucky, you'll be thought of as a very good Glamour, as I've used the trick before. It's a well-known fact that I rarely dine with others, so I am hoping to use that to my advantage today."

 

"You mean our lunch is really bait?"

 

George just winked in response. "Ah, Alexandre! What a coincidence to see you here!" George called out jovially, waving a man over from the front foyer." Be on your guard, dearest, I don't plan on dying today," he added in a soft undertone to Ginny.

 

Acting as though she was a Glamour - and therefore, not meant to move - Ginny resisted the temptation to turn around to see who George was calling out to.

 

"Take a seat, Alexandre. I'm sure I can spare a few Sickles for an old friend, especially one as _dear_ as you," George added, emphasising on the word dear, his eyes barely flicking down to Ginny.

 

Not allowing herself to hesitate or doubt her brother, Ginny turned immediately and Stunned the approaching wizard. She caught his expression a split second before the hex hit, and she wondered just why this wizard looked ready to kill George. Alexandre fell forward, and his wand slipped out of his grasp, rolling towards the table. Ginny snatched the wand up before the wizard could overcome her hex, while George stepped around the chair and edge of the table to pick Alexandre up and place him in an empty chair between them.

 

"Do relax the spell a bit, dearest, otherwise we'll be waiting all evening for dear Monsieur Alexandre to thaw."

 

Ginny eased the hex in small increments, enough to allow Alexandre to bend his arms and knees to sit properly.

 

"Lovely. Now, if I may see Monsieur Alexandre's wand?" George asked.

 

Ginny placed the wizard's wand in George's outstretched palm, quietly waiting and curious to see what he would do.

 

"You know, they say that Monsieur Maxence is the best wandmaker in France. Light, supple wands that are unequaled, even by Mr. Ollivander. It's not bad for a tagline, but I always associate _light_ and _supple_ with _fragile_ and _breakable_ ," George said, bending the wand in his hands experimentally. "Of course, there are the usual built-in charms to stop accidental breakage, otherwise the good Monsieur Maxence would have been out of business years ago. But I have to wonder about _intentional breakage_ , surely that would work?" he murmured, almost to himself, the wand bending in a firm curve now.

 

Alexandre paled, watching with slightly-wider eyes as George continued to flex the birch wand. He let out a noise of alarm as George straightened the wand and then started to flex it the other way, the length of wood creaking dangerously.

 

"Ah, dearest, do me a favour and let Alexandre speak. I have something very important to ask of him," George said, not moving his gaze away from the wizard.

 

Ginny did as George asked, lessening the spell so that Alexandre could move his mouth and fingers.

 

"What do you want?" Alexandre spat, his French accent heavy.

 

"Oh, quite a lot, really. A nice manor in the country, among a list of things I want. But from you? I just want one thing: a name."

 

Alexandre clenched his jaw, looking between George and his wand.

 

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked, returning with a Quick Quill and parchment, along with a bottle of water.

 

"Oh, dear, we got so caught up talking to our old friend that we quite forgot about food!" George said with a laugh. "Dearest, have you decided on your meal?" he asked, gesturing to the forgotten menu sitting in front of her.

 

Ginny looked to the menu quickly, making sure to keep her wand trained on Alexandre under the table. "I'll have the filet mignon with red wine sauce, and I'd like the roast vegetables, not the salad," she added, seeing the two options listed.

 

"Hmm, I'm torn between _Blanquette de veau_ and _Sole Meuni_ _è_ _re_. Do you have any suggestions, Alexandre?" George asked, looking to their captive expectantly. ( _Veal ragout. Lemon-butter fish._ French dishes, not direct translations.)

 

Alexandre blinked, frowning. " _Sole Meuni_ _è_ _re_."

 

" _Blanquette de veau_ it is. You have horrible taste, Alexandre. He'll have the _Hachis Parmentier_ ; it's delicious and you won't regret it," George added, passing the menus back to the waiter. ( _Shepherd's pie_. French dish, not direct translation.)

 

"Very good. Your meals will be out presently," the waiter promised, leaving again.

 

"Now, I believe I was asking you about a name?" George prompted, taking Alexandre's wand up once more.

 

"Who'ze name?" Alexandre asked.

 

"The name of the person that sent you to kill me."

 

Alexandre started visibly sweating, and George began tapping the wizard's wand on the table quite forcefully.

 

"I d-do not know! Zere was an owl, money and your name on a note; zat iz all I know!"

 

George stopped banging the wand and frowned at Alexandre. "Hmm. Do you have the note?"

 

"My robe pocket. If ze young lady can undo ze spell?" Alexandre offered, wiggling his fingertips briefly.

 

Ginny ignored his request and reached over the table into the wizard's robe. Finding the slip of parchment, along with a smooth vial in the same pocket, Ginny took them both out and placed them on the table in front of Alexandre. George saw the vial filled with purple liquid and shook his head, tutting in disappointment.

 

"After all of these years of friendship, I'm so disappointed to see you lying to me, Alexandre."

 

George picked up the vial carefully, and as the light from the windows and chandelier caught on the liquid, it splayed out a myriad of colours on the plate before them.

 

"You obviously know more than what you're telling me if you were planning on using Amonia in an attempted murder."

 

"Zey wanted you to be a warning to others," Alexandre said, straining against the spell.

 

"I asked you for a name, you said you didn't know, now you're telling me he or she is actually a they?" George asked pointedly.

 

Ginny tightened the hex on Alexandre, the wizard stopping his struggles immediately. She picked up the parchment still sitting in front of him, reading the French words for herself before holding it out to George.

 

" _Kill R. Dameras; make it a warning to others_ ," he read out. "Well, that's enlightening," George muttered, trailing off as he saw something else at the bottom of the parchment. He snatched it out of Ginny's hands quickly, examining the parchment closely. "Oh, that really **is** enlightening! _Merci_ , Alexandre." ( _Thank you_. French)

 

Ginny frowned slightly, not having seen anything else of interest on the parchment, and certainly nothing to warrant her brother's response.

 

"Ma'am, the filet mignon. Sir, the _Blanquette de veau_. And sir, the _Hachis Parmentier_. Enjoy your meals. If there is anything else I can do for you, please do not hesitate to call," the waiter added, waiting a moment to ensure they did not require his service before leaving once more.

 

"Now, dearest, I'm sure we can allow Alexandre the use of one hand to eat his meal."

 

"You're really letting him eat with us? He just tried to kill you!"

 

"I know; but it's rude manners to eat in front of someone, and Damera's are never rude."

 

Ginny sighed and lessened the spell enough that the wizard could use his arm.

 

"Know this though, Alexandre. If you try to kill me while we're eating, you'll befall the same fate as Arison in Italy. I presume you remember what happened to him?" George added, taking a healthy bite of his ragout.

 

Alexandre stopped looking at his spoon as though determining the best way to finish his job, and instead simply looked queasy. Ginny was dying to know what had happened in Italy.

 

 _Trust me, you do_ ** _not_** _want to know before food. Or after food. Or in a ten-metre radius of food_ , Ginevra supplied with what sounded like a full-bodied shudder.

 

"All right, dearest?" George asked, seeing his sister shudder.

 

"Headache's back," she replied with a tight smile, setting her wand aside so she could cut into her steak.

 

"Well, I hope the food helps, as you said it would. Alexandre, if you don't put that knife down, I will bind you to the chair the Muggle way."

 

Alexandre put the knife down quickly and picked up his spoon once more. He started to eat reluctantly, though his features softened as he tasted the food.

 

"Good, isn't it?" George asked with a grin, taking another bite of his own meal.

 

Alexandre nodded. "Oui, as good as Mama used to make."

 

"Now, that's definitely a nice compliment. I'll pass it along to the chef, shall I?"

 

Alexandre paled, his spoon clattering to the floor as he stared at his food. Within a matter of seconds, the spoon had been replaced with a clean one by their waiter.

 

"Now, now, no need to look so concerned, Alexandre. A few drops of Veritaserum never hurt anyone. Unless they resisted, of course," George added, his voice pleasant and a stark contrast to the expression on his face. "Now, would you like to us to finish eating first, or shall we just leave now instead?"

 

"Finish eating first," Alexandre said quickly, obviously hoping for some of the Veritaserum to have worn off by the time they had finished their meals.

 

Ginny realised that she was only a few bites away from finishing her filet mignon and roast vegetables. She figured that the next five minutes would probably be enough time for her to finish her meal and for the Veritaserum to become more potent in Alexandre's bloodstream.

 

The next seven minutes were some of the quietest in Ginny's memory. Alexandre kept his breathing shallow, obviously trying to fight the potion working its way through his body; George ate his food calmly, as though drugging someone with Veritaserum was an everyday occurrence; and Ginny focused on chewing her food so she wouldn't choke to death in her hurry.

 

"No need to rush, dearest. Alexandre's been given a slow-working Veritaserum. Newly developed, in fact. If it works well with Alexandre, it might make a certain potion-maker we know very rich."

 

Ginny paused in her chewing, surprised that Morrigan had made a new type of Veritaserum and she hadn't known about it.

 

 _Of course we didn't know. She has no idea what you're doing at Cloffice, does she?_ Ginevra pointed out.

 

_That's because I'm_ **_not_ ** _doing anything!_

 

_What do you think this is?_

 

 _A really weird lunch date_ , Ginny muttered internally, poking at the last of her roast pumpkin and filet mignon with her fork.

 

 _For now, you're right. Now finish eating and find out what happens next_.

 

_With Alexandre or Amelie?_

 

 _Alexandre first; neither of us want to miss out on that_.

 

Ginny speared the meat and pumpkin on her fork, and ate it in a large bite. Across from her, George raised his eyebrow at her eagerness and grinned.

 

"Now, Alexandre, I am upset that you are wasting food like this, especially something as delicious as _Hachis Parmentier_. I hope that the next time you are invited to a lunch, you eat everything that's on your plate.

 

"Dearest, will you call our waiter to settle the bill, please? I'll Side Apparate Alexandre when we're ready to leave; I wouldn't want your headache to get worse," George added.

 

The very idea of Side Apparating anyone made Ginny feel as bad as Alexandre looked, and she gave a nod, turning to call their waiter. The wizard arrived a few seconds after Ginny had called for him, a rectangle piece of parchment with their meals and final bill listed. George produced a quill from his robes, signed on the line at the bottom and thanked their waiter as their plates were cleared.

 

"Unfortunately, our friend is not feeling well, and could not finish his meal. Please thank the chef, everything was delicious," George added.

 

Ginny finished her drink of water, slipped her wand back into its holster at her side, and gave George a firm nod. He gave a nod in return, and they both grabbed on to either side of Alexandre, helping him stand properly. Before anyone could say anything, George Side Apparated the three of them away.

 

...

 

Ginny had no idea where George had Apparated them to, and some part of her knew that she would never find out the actual location.

 

 _It's a safety precaution. For both you and George, really. I had several places in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds that were designed for information retrieval, and not even Draco and Blaise knew where they were_ , Ginevra pointed out.

 

_By 'information retrieval', you mean torture, don't you?_

 

 _Sometimes, yes. Other times, it's just a place to sit and talk without fear of being overheard. There's a nice apartment in Prague that's designed to help people relax. It's where I took Kelly after that witch tried to kill her_.

 

 _Did it work? The apartment calmed her down?_ Ginny asked curiously, watching absent-mindedly as George bound Alexandre to a chair with a flick of his wand.

 

 _Well, the Calming Draughts in her tea certainly helped. It includes the highest Calming Draught stocks of any of the safe houses. Three full cabinets of tea and Calming Draughts, the last I saw_.

 

"Now, dearest, you let me know the minute you need to leave, all right? There's no shame in it, especially when you're already feeling unwell," George added, his voice soft and kind.

 

"I'll be fine, dearest. If I'm not, I'll let you know," Ginny added when she saw that he wasn't convinced.

 

"Good. Now, you have first choice of seating, so..." George trailed off, indicating to the lounge area set up across from Alexandre's chair.

 

Ginny walked past Alexandre to sit in the armchair that faced his general direction. While she could watch everything that happened, Ginny could look at the fake window in the background and let scenes of the Royal Botanical Gardens distract her.

 

 _If it gets to be too much, we can continue instead_ , Ginevra offered.

 

Ginny stayed silent for the moment, and watched as her brother pulled up a chair directly opposite to Alexandre.

 

"Now, Alexandre, tell me: how long have we known each other?"

 

"Five years, eight months."

 

"And of that time, how long have we been friends?"

 

"Four years, six months."

 

"I would have said five years, but that's fine too. So, after four and a half years of friendship, just how much money is my life worth?"

 

Alexandre looked like he was clenching his jaw tight enough to ache.

 

"Come on. It's got to be a high amount, surely. We have been friends for this long; I have even had dinner with you and your wife in the last four months! And yet, you try to kill me?"

 

"Three..."

 

"Three thousand? Three, what? Galleons, Sickles, Knuts? Come on, Alexandre, give me an amount. Consider it a courtesy after you trying to kill me in such a public way."

 

"Three hundred thousand Galleons."

 

George sat up a little straighter, and gave a slight nod. "All right, that's understandable. I might even turn myself in for that amount. Now, what about the insignia at the bottom? That means something to you, doesn't it?"

 

Alexandre worked very hard to shake his head, but it dissolved into a quick nod, his eyes clenched shut as tight as his jaw.

 

"Give me a name, Alexandre."

 

Silence reigned, and as Ginny watched, she could see blood seeping out of Alexandre's mouth. He was obviously biting his tongue in an effort not to talk. It looked as though he had bitten his way through his tongue.

 

"Remember Italy, Alexandre? You were there with me, so you know exactly what I am capable of, what the Damera name means. Do you honestly think I will let something as small as our friendship get in the way of the answers I'm seeking? You didn't let it stop you from trying to kill me, after all."

 

George pressed his wand under the edge of Alexandre's ribs, and the wizard let out a whimper, more blood flowing down his chin and dripping onto his lap.

 

"Please."

 

"Three hundred thousand Galleons doesn't get you a lot nowadays, you know that? A house, sure, and a brand new broom for you and the wife to go with it. And maybe a box seat for the Quidditch Championship game for the next two years, but that would probably be it. And knowing you the way I do, Alexandre, you would want the most extravagant house and broom on the market, so you may not even get those box seat tickets after all. Whoever paid you to kill me don't know you as well as I do, do they?"

 

The Veritaserum proved too strong and Alexandre nodded in agreement.

 

"Ah, but they **do** know you, then?"

 

Ginny felt somewhat queasy as she watched George questioning Alexandre, reminded all too forcefully of her own capture and torture. She watched in a morbid and detached fascination as Alexandre nodded and whimpered again. Soon, tears trekked down his cheeks to join the rivulets of blood on his chin. Ginny looked away and concentrated on the pictures of the flora behind Alexandre's bound form.

 

"Give me a name, Alexandre. **_Now!_** " George demanded.

 

 _Alexandre's not going to give up quite so soon. He hasn't been trained in the same way that we have, but he can hold out against Veritaserum for longer than this_ , Ginevra muttered.

 

_How do you know?_

 

 _See the way he's clenching his hands? He's trying to use his muscles to work the Veritaserum out of his body faster. For the moment, his plan is working. If the Veritaserum is as slow-working and takes as long as George thinks, then it will eventually win out in the end_.

 

Ginny looked away from the autumn orange trees and back to Alexandre. She saw the way he clenched his hands tightly in short bursts, his biceps expanding with each motion, and his torso pushing against the binds around him. It was an old technique that was used to help work Veritaserum out of the body faster, providing that the person that had ingested it could keep themselves mentally aware enough to actually move while under the influence of the potion. Ginny hoped that Morrigan's potion worked as well as George expected.

 

 _Shall we continue with Amelie?_ Ginevra offered.

 

Ginny waited a moment longer, watching George and Alexandre before realising that Ginevra was right. They were at a stalemate and, for the moment, there was nothing to be done. Not without going to extreme measures on George's part, and she doubted that he would succumb to that now. Ginny nodded to Ginevra's offer and closed her eyes.

 

As Ginevra took over to detail more of her memory as Amelie, she blinked her way awake and looked over to George.

 

"He's trying to work it out faster, dearest. Either hit him up with another dose, or get your dagger out and start reenacting Italy," Ginevra called, grinning.

 

George looked at Ginevra, realising in a split second that Ginny wasn't the one in charge. "How's your headache?"

 

"It's being dealt with," she replied, closing her eyes.

 

...

 

Amelie woke up in her apartment in wizarding France. Her head ached and it took a moment to recognise her furniture and the bedroom itself as her own. Seeing the sun peeking through her blinds, Amelie reached over for her pocket watch to see the time.

 

"Merde!" Scrambling out of bed, she cursed her grandfather's old pocket watch, stripping off her pyjamas as she headed into the bathroom. ( _Shit!_ French)

 

In truth, she loved the pocket watch and its broken alarm charm. It had been a gift for her 15th birthday, given to her by her mother since her grandfather had passed on almost ten years prior. Amelie could never bring herself to fix the quirks that came along with the lovely old pocket watch, even though it felt as though she had been late for every single appointment and meeting every day since her 15th birthday. Unfortunately, the same was still true today on Amelie's first day at her new job.

 

She rushed her way through a shower and getting dressed, her gaze flicking to the clock hanging on her wall every few minutes. Breakfast was little more than a coffee and cold plain croissant; her mother would kill her if she was still alive.

 

With three minutes to spare, Amelie brushed her teeth and flicked her wand to tidy her hair. She almost put her wand in her mouth instead of her toothbrush, and muttered at herself between spitting and rinsing.

 

" _Tard... Premier jour... Idiot_." ( _Late. First day. Idiot_. French)

 

Double-checking that she had her wand in her sleeve and her pocket watch safely tucked away in her pocket, Amelie Apparated to the main office building for Avenir.

 

After receiving her name badge, Portkey, and charmed access bracelet, Amelie was taken on a tour of the building. She listened attentively, writing notes in a blank notebook and drawing a crude map that she could add to later so she wouldn't get lost. Amelie huffed as her hair fell over her face, trying to get the unruly brown locks to stay in place.

 

"Votre bureau," Odette said with a bright smile and flourish of her hand. ( _Your desk_. French)

 

"Merci, Odette. Où sont les toilettes?" Amelie asked, not seeing any signs. ( _Thank you,_ Odette _. Where is the bathroom?_ )

 

"Au bout du couloir," Odette said, indicating back the way they had just come. (At the end of the hallway.)

 

"Merci," Amelie said over her shoulder, rushing towards the bathroom without trying to make it seem as though she was rushing.

 

Amelie sat on the toilet seat and forced herself to breathe. She noticed that her hands were shaking and glared at them, as though that would stop the motion. Her hands didn't obey her glare, so she clenched them shut and placed them firmly on her lap. Amelie hissed in pain as her left thumb smacked into her pocket watch, still tucked away in her dress pocket. She took the pocket watch out, hand aching from being so tense, and gently caressed the intricate design on the cover with her thumb. The motion calmed her, and Amelie thought of her grandfather, an old man with a stern face. No, a kind face. A kind and loving man with more laughter lines on his face than hair on his head. Someone that had loved Amelie as much as she had loved him. Yes, the memory of her Grand-pére would be important to someone like Amelie. (Grandfather.)

 

By the time she had stopped shaking and had composed herself enough to leave the bathroom stall, a few minutes had passed. Amelie hurried back to her desk, seeing that Odette was still waiting. A wizard had joined her, leaning on the back of Amelie's chair as he chatted with Odette.

 

"... toujours dans votre _dette_ , Odette," the man said with a laugh. (Forever in your debt, Odette.)

 

"Cette blague n'a jamais été drôle, Marcel," Odette drawled, rolling her eyes at him. (That joke has never been funny.)

 

Odette realised that Amelie had returned and smacked Marcel's arm. "Idiot. Pars!" she said, shooing him away from Amelie's chair. "Marcel, voici Amelie. Amelie, Marcel." (Idiot. Go away! Marcel, this is Amelie.)

 

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle," Marcel said, bowing deeply.

 

"Ignore le, Amelie," Odette said, shaking her head. "Du café?" (Ignore him, Amelie. Coffee?)

 

"Oui, s'il vous plaît," Amelie said, moving around Marcel to join Odette. (Yes, please.)

 

By the end of the day, Amelie and Odette were fast friends. Odette worked for Avenir's finance department and knew everything about everyone. By the end of the day, Amelie's head was spinning with names and faces that had passed by, with whispered gossip and bright laughter. When Amelie arrived to her apartment that evening, she was exhausted, and fell asleep clutching her pocket watch.

 

...

 

Amelie's first week at Avenir was frustrating, quiet, and terrifying all at once. It was a new job, so that meant opportunities to make mistakes. Her first mistake involved walking into a meeting room while a meeting was in progress. (To be honest, her second and third mistakes weren't much better, but Odette laughed even when Amelie buried her head in her hands, blushing and muttering about a hole opening up below and swallowing her.)

 

"Ne vous inquiétez pas, Amélie. Vous êtes nouvelle, vous serez pardonnée," Odette promised, once she had settled and her laughter had stopped. (Don't worry, Amelie. You're new; you will be forgiven.)

 

"Pardonnée et non virée j'espère!" Amelie said with a groan, slowly and reluctantly lowering her hands. (Forgiven not fired, I hope!)

 

"Espérons le," Odette said, nodding sombrely, a smile twitching at her lips. (Hopefully.)

 

"Vous êtes cruelle," Amelie muttered. (You're cruel.)

 

"Oui!" Odette quipped.

 

Amelie waved her hand at Odette, wanting to berate her some more, but saw Odette's eyes widen and her gaze move somewhere behind her. Amelie frowned at her friend.

 

"Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" (What's wrong?)

 

"Tais toi," Odette hissed, looking down at the table, her cheeks red. (Be quiet.)

 

Confused, Amelie waited, glancing as two wizards walked past. The men were completely oblivious to them, talking rapidly, the shorter balding man emphasising something with a wave of his hands.

 

"Qui est-ce?" Amelie asked when they were out of earshot. (Who's that?)

 

"Jacques et Étienne. Jacques est chef de la Division des projets," Odette explained. "Étienne est son second." (Jacques and Étienne. Jacques is the head of the project division. Étienne is his second-in-command.)

 

"Ah," Amelie hummed, wanting to ask more.

 

Odette looked to her pocket watch, cursing softly under her breath. "Désolé je dois partir. On parlera plus la prochaine fois ?" (Sorry, I have to go. We'll talk more next time?"

 

"Oui. Ne vous excusez pas," Amelie added with a smile. (Yes. Don't apologise.)

 

"Au revoir," Odette called, rushing down the hallway.

 

Odette was already too far for Amelie to reply, so she sat at the table and took her shrunken notebook and quill from her pocket, returned both to their original sizes, and started writing. She had updated her map, finally knew where the bathrooms were on all five levels of the building, and added notes about the things she was learning throughout her day. She sketched a quick impression of Jacques and Étienne, hoping to improve those at a later date as she had with her map.

 

"Ah, Mademoiselle! Joignez-vous à moi pour le déjeuner?" Marcel asked with a broad grin and his arms splayed in a wide welcoming impression of a hug. (Join me for lunch?)

 

"Non, merci," Amelie said, putting her quill and notebook away, and standing to leave. (No, thank you.)

 

"Dommage. Tant pis pour moi," Marcel said with a long and heavy sigh. (Pity. The loss is mine.)

 

Amelie laughed, waved him off, and continued down the hallway to the elevators so she could return to her desk. She was at Avenir to work, not to get a boyfriend, and Amelie planned on keeping it that way.

 

Marcel stopped pursuing Amelie after the fourth rejection, but then there was Philippe, Josse, Henri, and Renaud. They seemed to take Marcel's rejection as an indication that they could win where their colleague had failed. She was a new game for them to play, and by the end of the third week, Amelie was sick of it. She snapped when all four men tried to jostle and shove each other out of the way to sit with her, only to knock poor Odette aside instead. Before Odette could even right herself, all four wizards were hexed and lying on the floor with their legs twisted in pretzel knots.

 

"Non, non, non, non! Quand j'ai dis non, je le pensais!" Amelie snapped, shoving her fringe back off her face, before moving to help Odette stand. (No. When I said no, I meant it!)

 

"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" a firm voice demanded behind them. (What's happening?)

 

"Jacques! Oh. Oh, uh," Odette stammered, brushing off her dress, looking down with a blush.

 

"Ils me harcelaient, et ont poussé Odette," Amelie said, ignoring Jacques to check Odette over and make sure her friend was all right. (They were harassing me, and knocked Odette.)

 

"Et le sortilège?" Jacques queried. (And the [magic] charm?)

 

"Moi," Amelie said, finally looking at him, her chin raised slightly and daring him to defy her. Some part of her was surprised at how handsome he was, and she firmly reminded herself that she was not at Avenir to get a boyfriend. No matter how pretty his blue eyes were. (Me.)

 

Jacques looked from Amelie to the four men on the floor around him, and back again. He took a moment before speaking to look Amelie up and down curiously. "Un tel pouvoir pour une petite femme," he murmured. (Such power for a small woman.)

 

"Ne la réprimandez pas, elle me protégeait," Odette said quickly, clutching Amelie's hand tight. (Don't reprimand her, she was protecting me.)

 

"Oui, oui. Partez. Je ferai en sorte qu'ils ne vous harcèlent plus," Jacques promised, his eyes lingering on Amelie. (Yes. Go. I'll make sure they no longer harass either of you.)

 

Odette didn't wait to be told twice, practically pulling Amelie along through the building to the elevators.

 

"Odette - " Amelie started.

 

"Jacques... C'est un homme dangereux. Soyez prudente, Amelie," Odette said quickly, her cheeks still pink. She didn't wait for a reply, stepping into the arriving elevator and finally letting go of Amelie's arm. (He is a dangerous man. Be careful, Amelie.)

 

The elevator doors closed on Amelie's stunned form, and she could only stare at the doors long after they had shut. Needing a few extra minutes to think, Amelie walked up the four flights of stairs to get back to her desk, wondering at Odette's odd advice.

 

...

 

End of the thirty-seventh chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	38. Chapter 38

Alexandre was proving harder to break than George had first suspected. He wasn't willing to do much physical torture, but he'd barely started on the mental or emotional aspects. George wondered how long it would take for Alexandre to break if he mentioned his wife.

 

 _Only one way to find out, Georgie boy_ , Fred pointed out. _I bet five minutes_.

 

George looked at Alexandre for a moment longer, the way he was sweating and still trying to fight the Veritaserum, despite being given a second dose almost five minutes ago. Morrigan had promised that it was slow enough to break any resistance an ordinary witch or wizard might put up; if a second dose was required, then they had probably undergone some sort of training to withheld the affects of the serum. Alexandre didn't strike George as the type of person to undergo any sort of training, and he determined that the French man was simply stubborn.

 

 _Three minutes_ , he said finally, then turned his attention back to his friend.

 

"Perhaps I should be asking Alice instead of you? Surely your beloved wife ought to know who this symbol refers to," George commented idly, looking to the parchment between them.

 

Alexandre paled significantly. "Non, non. Not her."

 

"I don't see why not," George replied, standing to go to the fireplace. "I'm sure I remember your grate number, and Alice would be home around now, wouldn't she?"

 

"Non! She knows nothing. Laissez-elle tranquille!" (No! Leave her alone. _French_ )

 

"Then you know what I need to know," George said, hand hovering over the small pot of powder.

 

Alexandre looked torn between telling George everything and keeping his secret for as long as he possibly could.

 

Ginny herself wondered just how far her brother would go to get this information from his former friend; would he keep torturing the French wizard until he finally broke? Would he stop, for the sake of their friendship? Or would he kill him for this information?

 

Ginevra was silent and offered no input to Ginny's questions.

 

The Veritaserum broke through Alexandre's final resolve, which had been crumbling ever since the mention of his wife, and after exactly four minutes, he finally cracked.

 

"Projet Serpent," Alexandre said finally, chest heaving and his eyes red with unshed tears. "Ils font partie de La Révolution." (Project Serpent. They are part of The Revolution.)

 

"Oui, and?" George prompted, the tip of his wand digging into Alexandre's neck.

 

"Avenir. Ils sont une organisation de façade pour La Révolution," Alexandre admitted, words rushed as he tried to lean back away from George's wand. "Le message provient d'eux." (Avenir. They are a front organisation for The Revolution. The message is from them.)

 

Ginny sat up abruptly at the name, her mouth going dry as she listened to Alexandre's brief explanation of the place Ginevra had shown her less than an hour ago.

 

"Merveilleux d'entendre, Alexandre. Merci," George said, looking far too jovial for someone who had just finished torturing a man. (Wonderful to hear. Thank you.)

 

"Q-quoi?" Alexandre stammered, looking between George and Ginny in confusion. (What?)

 

Ginny had no idea herself, and watched her brother curiously.

 

"Don't worry, Alexandre; I am not going to kill you. Your wife would be terribly upset with me," George said, grinning. "However, I am going to turn you over to my boss. She will be most pleased to hear you know people within La Révolution, I'm sure. And you will tell her everything she needs to know, won't you, Alexandre? Otherwise I will bring your wife here too. Comprendre?" (Understand?)

 

"Oui, oui," Alexandre agreed quickly. "S'il vous plaît, il suffit de laisser ma femme seule!" (Yes. Please, just leave my wife alone.)

 

"Bien sûr," George promised, then pointed his wand at Alexandre once more. (Of course.)

 

Alexandre tensed, eyes widening. Before he could say or do anything, George hexed Alexandre with an intense Sleeping Charm, and the French wizard's head dropped forward onto his chest. Light snores filled the room moments later, and George sighed heavily, turning to Ginny.

 

"Sorry about that, dearest. Are you all right?"

 

She shrugged in return. "Better when I'm not the one being interrogated."

 

"That's usually the case when it comes to torture," George said with a hollow laugh. "If you'd like to go home, I'll call Pansy and deal with this."

 

"Will he remember?" Ginny asked, standing to look at the wizard.

 

"Probably; I think Pansy will use him as an informant. It's usually best to work with a bit of fear with informants; makes them realise that we will go through with any threats, and it's best to give us what we ask for."

 

"What if the other side treats them better?" Ginny asked.

 

George shrugged. "It hasn't happened yet."

 

"All right, well, I'll leave you to this then. I think I need to sleep for a few hours to recover from our lunch," she said with a wry grin.

 

"Our lunch won't include torture next time, I promise."

 

Ginny pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then Apparated to their apartment.

 

...

 

Two weeks passed before Jacques approached Amelie, and in that time, she was left alone by the men in her work area. She wondered just what Jacques had said to them to make the men give her such a wide berth (Renaud actually went out of his way to avoid her, ducking into the stairwell if she neared). She had seen Jacques around Avenir since the incident with the wizards and Odette; he usually had Étienne by his side, and she was realising just how rare it was to spot either man without the other.

 

Amelie was busy working, adjusting a spell to increase the length of effectiveness - sleep spells weren't meant to wear off after a few minutes, after all - when a shadow fell over her desk. She glanced up, saw Jacques, and returned her attention back to her work almost immediately.

 

"Où est ton ami?" (Where is your friend?)

 

"Pardon?" Jacques asked with a frown.

 

"Étienne," she added, not seeing the short, balding man nearby.

 

"Ah. Il est occupé," Jacques replied. "Avez-vous été gêné par ces hommes?" (He is busy. Have you been bothered by those men?)

 

"Non, je les vois à peine," Amelie answered, shrugging. (No, I barely see them.)

 

"Je suis heureux d'entendre cela," Jacques said. (I am glad to hear that.)

 

"Ah, Jacques! Vous y êtes," Étienne called, waving him over. (There you are.)

 

"Au revoir," Jacques said, nodding to Amelie as he left.

 

"Adieu," she said, not looking up from her spell.

 

When he was out of sight, Ginny stopped the spell, her hands trembling too much to continue. She knew others were watching, could feel their eyes on her, so she didn't dare look up. Instead, she took a deep breath, and with a steady hand, Amelie picked up her wand again to continue adjusting the spell.

 

...

 

Ginny blinked wearily when she heard George's Apparating sound in the lounge room.

 

These memories from Ginevra were emotionally exhausting, as if she could feel the tension and fear that had kept Amelie/Ginevra running most days. She was overly cautious to the point of paranoia, kept to a strict routine of working-eating-sleeping and nothing else, and spent most of her time trying to ensure that no one found out the truth for who she really worked for.

 

Yawning widely and trying to ease her aching head, Ginny trudged out to the lounge room where George was still taking off his gloves and outer robes. He winced when he saw the state of Ginny's bed-messed hair and her holey pyjama shirt and shorts.

 

"Sorry for waking you, Gin. I forgot you said you'd be sleeping," George said, drawing her into a warm hug.

 

Ginny leant her head against his shoulder, yawning again. "S'okay. Still tired," she mumbled.

 

"Yeah, I know. Back to bed with you then, dearest sister. We've got lunch at the Burrow tomorrow, and you've got to catch up with your articles for the Quibbler," George reminded her.

 

Ginny groaned in annoyance, a noise somewhere between their father's Ford Anglia and the ghoul in the Burrow's attic. George snorted, lifted her with a grunt of difficulty, and plonked her right on the couch.

 

"I'm not carrying you, dearest, and if you won't walk, you'll be sleeping with the springs in the couch instead."

 

Ginny glowered at him half-heartedly. "You woke me, you should carry me."

 

"How about levitating?" George compromised.

 

"You won't drop me or hit me into the walls? Or the ceiling?"

 

George looked offended. "I am offended! You think I would do that to you, my dearest sister?"

 

"Yes."

 

"You're right. But I promise I won't. Consider it my penance for waking you," George said with a grin.

 

"All right. If you break your promise, I will hex you," Ginny said, yawning again and relaxing her body so it would be easier for George to levitate her properly.

 

"I expect nothing less," he murmured, then flicked and swished his wand to levitate her into the air gently.

 

The feeling of levitating was so utterly different and foreign compared to flying. While flying allowed some semblance of control, levitating was completely out of her control. Ginny could fool herself while flying on a broomstick, even with the air rushing past, nature whirling around her, but levitating had none of that. It was simply someone else's power, their inclination and whim to keep her floating, gentle tufts of air beneath her that couldn't come close to the rush of flying.

 

True to his word, George didn't bump Ginny into any walls, ceilings, or even the door itself. He hovered her over her bed and retracted the spell, Ginny landing on her mattress with a soft thump. She would have glared, but decided she was far too tired for the action.

 

"Hey, you okay?" Ginny asked, realising that George hadn't even laughed at her fall. Receiving a shrug in response, she frowned and rolled over to face him properly. "Is it Alexandre? What happened to him, anyway?"

 

"Pansy's keeping him as an informant. And yeah, some of it is Alexandre; I'm just... I shouldn't say upset, because I know that all people have a price, but I actually thought we were friends," George said, shaking his head with a self-depreciating scoff.

 

Ginny didn't know what to say to reassure or comfort her brother, so instead she sat up and tugged him by the cuff of his sleeve so she could hug him around the waist.

 

"I don't have a price, dearest brother."

 

"Oh, I don't know," George said lightly. "I've seen what you'd do for the last piece of chocolate cheesecake."

 

She snorted against his stomach. "You're lucky I love you, you idiot."

 

He smiled down at her fondly and caressed her hair gently, then tugged her away. "I know. Sleep now, dearest sister."

 

"Mmm, 'kay," Ginny murmured, yawning widely again.

 

She was fast asleep before George left the room.

 

...

 

Amelie was busy with two projects for Avenir, as well as her own side-project to extend the effectiveness of the sleeping spell. She didn't have time to do anything other than work, eat, and on the rare occasion, sleep. Her lunch breaks with Odette were her only reprieve from becoming a complete workaholic, something that Odette took great pride in teasing Amelie about when she could.

 

"Nous allons faire une fête; tu dois venir!" Odette said, waving part of her baguette at Amelie. (We're having a party; you should come!)

 

"Non, désolé, je ne peux pas," she replied, shaking her head. (No, sorry, I can't.)

 

"Pourquoi? Que faites-vois?" Odette asked pointedly. (Why? What are you doing?)

 

"Je lirai," Amelie said. (I'll be reading.)

 

"Ennuyeuse," she sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. (Boring.)

 

"Pas pour moi." (Not for me.)

 

Odette grinned and popped the last of her baguette in her mouth. "Ennuyeuse."

 

Amelie just rolled her eyes at her friend.

 

Odette waved goodbye, too busy chewing to say anything verbally, and went back inside to her work area. Amelie stretched, rolled her neck, and then headed inside as well. Seeing that both elevators were already at levels 7 or higher, and knowing by now just how long they took to get back down to the ground floor, Amelie headed to the staircase instead.

 

"Ah, Amelie. Bonjour," Jacques said, stopping her on the staircase at the third floor.

 

Amelie was very aware that they were the only ones in the stairwell, and that the stairs were silenced. She couldn't hear what happened on any floor unless she opened the door, and no one on each of the floors would hear her either. She tried to steady her nerves, to not look guilty, to not look scared. Amelie smiled briefly and slipped her hand in her pocket, clutching her pocket watch for comfort.

 

"Bonjour. Tour va bien, monsieur?" (Hello. Is everything all right, sir?)

 

"Appelez-moi Jacques, s'il vous plaît," he replied with a smile. (Call me Jacques, please.)

 

Amelie was surprised at his request; Jacques seemed to be the type of person who preferred to be called 'sir' than by his name.

 

"Très bien, Jacques," Amelie replied carefully. (Very well, Jacques.)

 

"Merci, Amelie. Au revoir," he said, smiling again, and continuing down the stairs.

 

"Au revoir," Amelie replied, finally letting go of her pocket watch with a white-knuckled grip.

 

Utterly confused at the encounter, Amelie continued up to the fourth floor.

 

...

 

"Ginny! Ginny, dear! Can you come dish up the peas?" Molly called, looking out of the kitchen briefly when Ginny and George Apparated in to the Burrow.

 

"Hello, mother. Nice to see you too, mother. George can dish up the peas too, mother," Ginny muttered, trekking down to the kitchen reluctantly.

 

"Ah, there you are. Thank you, dear. I'll be right back," Molly said, bustling out before Ginny could get a word in.

 

Sighing, Ginny started to serve peas on each plate, bypassing Charlie's plate since he hated peas with a passion.

 

Molly returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, and smiled at her daughter broadly. "Hello, dear. Thank you for dishing up; you did remember not to give peas to Charlie, didn't you?"

 

"Hello, mother. Yes, after 21 years, I still remember Charlie's intense hatred of peas."

 

Molly raised her eyebrow at Ginny's tone. "Is that tone necessary, Ginny dear?"

 

Ginny clenched her jaw, taking a moment to breathe and count before she relaxed again. "No, sorry, mother. I'll serve these, shall I?" she offered, sweet and polite, in a desperate attempt to leave the kitchen sooner rather than later.

 

"All right. Don't tell your brothers what's for dessert," Molly said over her shoulder as Ginny picked up two plates and left the kitchen.

 

"As I have no idea what we're having for dessert, I couldn't possibly tell them, now, could I?" Ginny muttered to herself.

 

She almost bumped into George in the hallway, and he steadied her before she could drop the plates entirely.

 

"Talking to yourself, Gin?" George asked with a grin, taking the plates for her.

 

"Oh, no. You can go in and get your own damn plates. I'm not going back in there unless it's at wand point," Ginny muttered, taking the plates back.

 

"That bad already?"

 

"Bad enough," she muttered, heading past her brother and into the dining room.

 

Seating herself, Ginny put a plate in front of herself and another in front of Ron.

 

"Thanks, Ginny. What's for dessert?" Ron asked with a grin.

 

"No idea; you can ask Mum yourself," she replied, stabbing several peas onto her fork fiercely.

 

"Ah. That time of month, eh, Ginny?"

 

Ginny glared. " _What_ did you say?"

 

Around them, their brothers and father went quiet, watching to see what would happen.

 

"I... uh... never mind," Ron mumbled, stuffing his mouth full of chicken.

 

"Amazingly, I'm allowed to be in a shitty mood even when I'm not menstruating, and you immediately assuming that I'm on my period just makes my mood even worse! Do you actually comprehend just how insulting it is to have my feelings reduced down to ' _that time of the month?!_ '" Ginny snapped.

 

Ron didn't have a chance to answer, mouth still full and unable to swallow anyway. Ginny shook her head and pushed away from the table, almost barrelling into George for the second time that night.

 

"Sorry, everyone. I'm in a shite mood, obviously not in the mood for company, and for your information: no, I'm **not** menstruating. I'll see you at home, George," Ginny said, Apparating before anyone could respond.

 

"What the bloody hell was that about?" George asked, looking from where Ron had gone red in the face and almost asphyxiated himself with his food, to the rest of his brothers.

 

"Ron, apparently, still hasn't learned the valuable lesson of not mentioning a woman's _time of the month_ when she's in a bad mood," Bill replied, taking the plates from George and handing one over to Fleur, who was glaring at Ron heatedly.

 

"Bloody hell, Ron, what's wrong with you?" George muttered.

 

Ron's face went redder still, and even though he'd finished chewing and swallowing, he still didn't reply.

 

...

 

" _Oh, I'm in a bad mood, so I_ ** _must_** _be on my period!_ " Ginny muttered mockingly, pulling a face. "Bloody arse."

 

She paced the lounge room a few times, trying to work out her frustration. Ginny knew the reason for her mood, but she couldn't exactly tell anyone about Amelie's memories and Jacques' obvious attempts at flirting with her. Amelie hadn't fallen straight into his arms like most of the women (and some of the men) at Avenir would have done, and Jacques was clearly intrigued by her. He stopped by her work desk more often, under the guise of ridiculous excuses that anyone within listening distance would have known as a ruse immediately. Amelie was both flattered and annoyed; she wanted to get her work done and Jacques' presence was a difficult one to ignore. Ginny herself was both anticipating and dreading her memory-fuelled dream tonight, wondering if Amelie would succumb to his charm; it was obvious she would, if only to further her own mission at Avenir for Cloffice.

 

Before Ginny could muse on Amelie or Jacques or Ginevra further, her stomach gurgled loudly. She looked down and sighed. "Now what am I going to do for lunch?"

 

Ginny hunted around the kitchen for food, but as neither she nor George had bought groceries this week, there was a poor selection of food: stale bread and sweaty cheese. Feeling somewhat nauseous at the very idea of stomaching that, Ginny decided to go out for lunch instead. Despite being somewhat broke after buying her dress for the Malfoy Annual Ball, Ginny was sure she could scrounge up enough Knuts and Sickles to have a decent meal at _The_ _Horse's Hooves_. Checking her purse and finding more than enough for a meal _and_ a drink, Ginny wrote a note to let George know she'd gone out for lunch, and Apparated to Diagon Alley.

 

"Good afternoon, welcome! You are at your usual table?" Marco offered, smiling broadly when he saw Ginny enter his restaurant.

 

"If it's not already occupied, then yes, please," Ginny replied with a brief smile.

 

"You are not joining your friends?" Marco asked, looking a bit confused.

 

Ginny looked over to the booth table to see Dennis and Neville sitting there with Draco and Blaise. "I didn't know they were here; I came on a whim," she admitted.

 

Marco held up a hand for her to wait. "I will check for you; maybe they discuss secret men's business," he said with a chuckle, going over to the booth.

 

Ginny had truly meant it when she said she wasn't suitable for company; she should have just eaten the sweaty cheese sandwich.

 

 _They've seen worse, you know_ , Ginevra informed her.

 

_What are you talking about?_

 

 _The boys, and Dennis and Neville; they've all seen you in worse moods than this. Unless they really are discussing something above our current pay grade, they won't give a flying Billywig if you just ignore them and eat your food for the next hour_.

 

 _When did they see me in a bad mood?_ Ginny asked, curiously.

 

 _Well, you_ ** _did_** _date Draco and Blaise for a bit over a year; it was bound to happen sometime. Though Blaise always says that Draco has worse moods than you do. Dennis and Neville were there for your first birthday without Fred_ , Ginevra added.

 

"The gentlemen have kindly agreed to let the lovely lady be seated with them," Marco said with a smile and wink, ushering her over.

 

"Thank you, Marco," Ginny said as she sat next to Blaise.

 

"Would you like to order now, or have chit-chat first?" Marco asked.

 

"I'll order now; sorry, boys, but I'm starved," Ginny added.

 

Neville waved her apology off without a word.

 

"Shepherd's pie with a side of roast vegetables, and a Butterbeer, please," Ginny asked.

 

"It will be out momentarily," Marco promised, leaving a moment later.

 

Ginny turned to look at Draco, Blaise, Neville, and Dennis. "Hi. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

 

"Well, we were getting an update on goings-on in the underground, but it's terribly dull. Through no fault of Dennis', of course," Blaise added.

 

"Why aren't you at the Burrow for Sunday roast?" Draco asked.

 

"I'm in a bad mood, Ron assumed that meant I was menstruating, and I decided I didn't want to deal with the resulting argument about _being nicer to my brothers_ from mother, so I left. There was nothing edible at home, I have enough Sickles and Knuts to treat myself to lunch, so that's what I decided to do."

 

"Sounds like a very good idea," Blaise said, and beside him, Draco was muttering things about Ron being an idiot under his breath.

 

"There are some days I wish I was an only child," Ginny muttered, sighing.

 

"I don't," Dennis said with a tiny grin.

 

Ginny immediately felt even worse before, and reached across the table to take Dennis' hand.

 

"That was an awful joke, Dennis; I'm proud of you," Neville said, kissing his boyfriend's scarred cheek and taking his free hand in his own, squeezing gently.

 

"Not the worst I've heard though," Draco said. "That one's courtesy of your brother," he added, looking to Ginny.

 

"Was it the one about the Crup, the Jarvey, and the ugly stick?" Blaise asked.

 

"Nope."

 

"Oh, what about the one about that the pirate and the piercings?" Neville asked.

 

Draco grinned and shook his head.

 

"I don't remember hearing that one," Blaise said, frowning.

 

"What did the pirate pay for his piercings?" Neville asked.

 

"What?"

 

"A buck-an-ear."

 

Blaise groaned. "That's awful."

 

Ginny shook her head, listening as they traded insults and jokes. By the time her lunch arrived, they had both left her to her mood and cheered her up at the same time.

 

"Stop eyeing off my food, Draco. You can order your own," Ginny muttered, bringing her plate close.

 

"But I already ate. You won't miss half a roast potato, right?" Draco asked, reaching for it.

 

Ginny smacked his hand with her fork. "I am not responsible for utensils being embedded in your limbs if you attempt to steal my food."

 

"Sorry, Gin," Draco said, keeping his hands firmly on Blaise's lap instead.

 

"Hey, hands above the table; you know the rules," Neville said.

 

"There are rules?" Ginny asked, taking a mouthful of food.

 

"Yes, because _someone_ can't keep his hands to himself," Blaise replied, rolling his eyes.

 

"It was _one time_ , and I didn't realise they'd arrived; we were half an hour early!" Draco said.

 

Ginny almost spat her food out. She hurried to swallow, almost choking in the process, and looked between the four of them. "Really? In public?"

 

Dennis snorted. "You can talk; we almost caught all three of you once."

 

"That's why we have rule number 3: you lot have to arrive either on time, or five minutes late," Neville added with a grin.

 

"I thought rule number 3 was the hands on the table?" Draco asked.

 

"No, that's rule number 2," Neville replied.

 

"Wait, what number is the rule about snogging then?" Draco asked.

 

"Number 1," Dennis said.

 

"And again in number 10, since you argued over the definition of snogging," Blaise said.

 

"Huh. I'm going to have to re-read the scroll later," Draco mused.

 

"There's an actual scroll? Can I see?" Ginny asked with a grin.

 

"After you've finished your lunch," Blaise prompted, guiding her spoon back to her plate.

 

_Rule number 42 is about us teasing the boys with innuendos, expressive looks, and excessive spoon-licking. I think it came about due to ice cream, but shepherd's pie could work._

 

Ginny grinned and kept eating. For now.

 

...

 

"That's it; rule 42 is there for a reason! We're leaving, and as soon as I've finished snogging you and your ridiculous mouth, you're reading the damn scroll," Draco muttered.

 

"I've got no idea what you're talking about," Ginny replied with a smirk.

 

"Yes, you do," Dennis said, watching her intently. "I've never understood the process myself; is it being done willingly, or are you getting them by force?"

 

"What are you on about, Dennis?" Blaise muttered, just as desperate to leave as Draco.

 

"Willingly, for the most part," Ginny admitted, shrugging. "Sometimes I get flashes of things that don't make sense, but it's more a conversation and imparting of knowledge than anything else."

 

"What are you both on about?" Neville asked, looking between Dennis and Ginny in confusion.

 

"Her memories as Ginevra," Dennis replied, as though it was obvious. "You told us you remembered some things after it first happened, but I didn't know it was still ongoing."

 

Ginny gave a wry grin. "Yeah, well, there's a lot of memories to get my head around. Not to mention, I still have the conflicting memories from my supposed year of working in the Ministry. It was dull and nothing really happened, but that timeline is extremely blurry compared to Ginevra's memories."

 

"Memory replacements are meant to be boring; it's easier to believe you've spent a year doing nothing when nothing makes it remarkable," Blaise said.

 

"Oh, you'd know a lot about memory replacements then, would you?" Draco snarked.

 

Blaise shook his head and sighed. "I see your horniness has made you irritable; shall I take you home now and fuck it out of you?"

 

"I thought I was going to read the rule scroll?" Ginny asked.

 

"We can do both," Blaise said, smirking.

 

"On that note, I believe we've had far too much insight into your love-life. Again," Neville said, shaking his head.

 

"I'll finish the report next week; like you said, it's boring," Dennis said.

 

"I doubt it will stay that way," Draco said with a heavy sigh.

 

Dennis just nodded. They all said their farewells, Neville hugged Ginny and kissed her cheek, and Dennis put a hand on her shoulder gently before pulling away almost immediately. The two wizards Apparated away before she could say anything else, and Ginny turned to Draco and Blaise, who were making out beside her.

 

"Already, really? Do I need to implement some rules of my own, too?"

 

Draco pulled away from Blaise, lips wet and red, looking at her with lust-dark eyes. "You can if you like; we're very open to ideas."

 

"Yes, I can see that," she murmured. "Come on, let's get out of here. Or do I need another round with that spoon?"

 

"I _knew_ you were doing it on purpose," Blaise groaned, tugging her in for a quick kiss, nipping at her lips.

 

Ginny grinned against his lips, then took Draco's hand, and let them Side-Apparate her wherever they wanted to go.

 

...

 

End of the thirty-eighth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	39. Chapter 39

Ginny kissed Draco, sweat covering them, Draco thrusting into her with slow and controlled movements. Behind him, Blaise was peppering kisses along the broad expanse of Draco's back and shoulders, his hips moving slowly, his cock sliding into Draco's arse at a tortuous pace.

 

" _Fuck_ , Blaise. Stop teasing, you twat," Draco groaned once he'd brought himself to pull away from Ginny's mouth.

 

Blaise grinned and winked at Ginny, then leaned over Draco more fully so he could take his ear lobe in his mouth, driving his cock further into Draco still. Draco shuddered, his control slipping as he jerked forward into Ginny deeply.

 

"Blaise, you fuck," Draco said, burying his head along the crook of Ginny's neck.

 

She laughed softly, drawing Draco closer still, and bending her leg to let him move even deeper inside her.

 

"You're both trying to ruin me for other people, aren't you?" Draco muttered.

 

"Of course we are," Blaise murmured, biting at the curve of Draco's shoulder.

 

"You can still make coherent sentences, so you're not ruined yet," Ginny pointed out with a grin, her hair clinging to her forehead.

 

Draco responded with a noise bordering on a groan. Blaise held Draco's hips, his fingers digging in as he started to move faster. Draco's groan became a sound of keening and pleading, his hips being forced to fuck Ginny at the same unrelenting pace. Ginny kissed him, biting at his lips and swallowing his sounds, Draco's fingers curling into the bedsheets as his other hand gripped at her shoulder to steady himself.

 

"Going to... come. Fuck," Draco groaned.

 

"Good," Ginny replied, looking mischievous, her hand slipping between them to rub at her clit.

 

Behind him, Blaise started to caress Draco's balls and thighs, his hips keeping up their relentless pace until Draco cried out his orgasm, his body stiffening between his lovers. Draco heaved for breath between them, Ginny kissing his jawline lightly as Blaise stroked his sides.

 

"Rest now, love. You were wonderful," Blaise murmured, pressing another kiss to Draco's shoulder before sliding out of his ass gently.

 

Draco mumbled something incoherent, slipping out of Ginny and rolling on his side to watch them drowsily. Blaise winked at Ginny as he slid down the bed to rest between her legs. Ginny reluctantly let him move her hand away, and she held Draco's hand as Blaise began to lick and suck and tease. Draco fell asleep after a few minutes, his hand held limply in Ginny's as she writhed under Blaise's ministrations.

 

"Fuck, Blaise. C'mon already," Ginny groaned, bucking her hips up impatiently.

 

Blaise just hummed around her clit and continued at his unhurried pace. After what felt like hours, Blaise finally picked up his pace, licking at her pussy while he rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger, pressing against the small nub every so often, and pulling back to kiss and bite at her thighs. Ginny tried to hold him there, tried to keep her legs clamped around his head, but Blaise was very good at manoeuvring at the last second, and she often found herself glowering down at his smug face instead, his lips curved into a smirk and his chin wet.

 

"Blaise, you bastard," Ginny growled after the _fourth damn time,_ this one so close she could almost _taste_ her orgasm.

 

Blaise smirked back at her, sitting up between her knees. "You taste even better when you're angry," he murmured against her skin, pressing a kiss to the curve of her knee before he moved back to where she desperately wanted him to be.

 

Ginny finally managed to get a hand in his hair, ignoring that it was soaked with sweat, and she held on so he couldn't escape yet again. She swore she could feel that bastard smiling.

 

Blaise licked and rubbed, heat pooling and coiling in the pit of her stomach as he worked at her clit and pussy. It became too much too fast, her whole body tightening, prepared to fall over the precipice, and then Blaise caught her clit in his mouth and hummed until Ginny screamed out her orgasm. Draco woke up blearily at her scream, blinking at the two of them.

 

"Merlin, Blaise. I'm trying to sleep here," he mumbled, curling up around Ginny's sweaty and naked body, his arm resting beneath her breasts.

 

Blaise chuckled as he made his way up the bed, grabbing his wand from the bedside table to clean the mess they'd made. Ginny felt somewhat better when she wasn't quite so gross and sweaty, and pressed a kiss to Blaise's mouth.

 

"You're still a bastard for teasing," Ginny murmured.

 

"You started it, Gin."

 

"Yeah, I know," she replied with a smug grin, closing her eyes to sleep.

 

Blaise settled in beside her, pressing a kiss to Ginny's shoulder as he fell asleep as well.

 

...

 

"Voulez-vous venir à l'intérieur?" Odette asked Amelie, her eyes flicking over to another lunch table where Jacques and Etienne were seated. (Will you come inside?)

 

Amelie shook her head. She indicated to her lunch, still half-eaten, and continued to chew, waving off Odette's obvious concern.

 

Over the past two months, Amelie had seen Jacques in Avenir's corridors, hallways, even the odd staircase, and occasionally at her desk, but he rarely said more than 'hello', 'how are you?', and 'goodbye'. Most of the time, Etienne was hovering somewhere in the background, like he was ready to pull Jacques back to their own level by the lapels of his work robe.

 

"À plus tard," Odette murmured, then headed back inside. (See you later.)

 

Amelie forced herself to return to her lunch. She refused to look over to where Jacques and Etienne were seated. Unfortunately, the whole time they'd been outside, they had been talking far too quietly for her to overhear their conversation. It was so rare for the two men to be outside during the lunch break that even the other workers at Avenir were quiet, most waiting and watching, trying to guess why they were there. It was obvious that there would be no answer forthcoming from either of the men. Most people soon decided that it was decidedly uncomfortable outside, despite the pleasant weather, and headed indoors early.

 

Amelie needed the sunshine more than the fake indoor lighting, and refused to be driven indoors by Jacques or Etienne. She continued to eat her lunch at a slower pace. Besides, now that the lunch area was almost empty, she could almost catch the words the two men were saying. She heard Etienne makes another quiet protest - the words themselves too low to hear, but she could recognise the tone easily enough - and then there was a scrape of metal on brick as someone stood up. She took another bite of her baguette, trying to seem disinterested in everything other than her food.

 

Jacques sat across from her, watching her silently for a moment, and Amelie felt her food turn into a solid and tasteless lump in her throat. _Why was he singling her out? Did he know something? He couldn't possibly; she'd been so careful!_

 

"Puis-je vous aider?" she asked, hoping she sounded confused instead of defensive. (Can I help you?)

 

"Est-ce que tu aimerais faire quelque chose?" Jacques asked. (Would you like to do something?)

 

Amelie set the last of her baguette down, nausea turning her stomach. She desperately wanted to say no, to listen to her gut feeling, to run away and never look back. But she had a job to do.

 

"Ça dépend. Sera-Etienne se joindre à nous?" Amelie asked, trying not to smile too broadly or let her nausea show. (That depends. Will Etienne be joining us?)

 

Jacques looked over to Etienne, a brief smile tugging at his lips, and shook his head. "Je ne pense pas qu'il aime ce que j'ai prévu." (I don't think he'll like what I have planned.)

 

"Prévu? Vous étiez si sûr que je dirais oui?" (Planned? You were so sure I'd say yes?)

 

Jacques went quiet as two workers passed their table to go inside, the witch and wizard looking at Jacques and Amelie curiously. Amelie hoped she wasn't blushing.

 

"Optimiste," he replied. (Hopeful.)

 

"Qu'est-ce que vous avez prévu?" Amelie asked curiously. (What do you have planned?)

 

"Tu verras. Je vais te chercher à sept heures le vendredi." (You'll see. I'll pick you up at seven o'clock on Friday."

 

"On peut se retrouver à huit heures," Amelie replied. (Let's meet at eight o'clock.)

 

"Très bien. Où habites-tu?" (All right. Where do you live?)

 

"Je vais l'écrire pour vous," she said. (I'll write it down for you.)

 

She wrote her address in her notebook and tore the paper out, handing it to Jacques. Amelie tried not to look too amused at the brief moment of delight that crossed his face.

 

"Allez, salut, Amelie," Jacques said, standing as Etienne came over. (See you then, Amelie.)

 

Etienne glared daggers at Amelie as he guided Jacques back inside by his elbow. Amelie didn't smile smugly, though she desperately wanted to. Instead, she forced herself to finish the last bite of her baguette, her stomach still churning.

 

...

 

Ginny woke up briefly, her head aching and her stomach sore.

 

She rolled over, caught under both Blaise and Draco's arms, and managed to tug half of the sheet with her as well.

 

_It was their own bloody fault anyway,_ she thought to herself drowsily, falling back to sleep.

 

...

 

Jacques and Amelie dated for three months before they moved in together. Jacques spent more time at Avenir than Amelie did, but she didn't mind the solace and privacy that his late nights or early mornings afforded her. She could read her favourite book while sitting in front of the fireplace, or talk with her last-remaining family member, an Aunt who lived a whirlwind life always flitting from place to place, but who always had time for her beloved niece in France.

 

"Amelie, look at your hair! Trés magnifique! You've cut it, non?"

 

"Oui, last week," Amelie replied, tapping her wand against her thigh in a seemingly abstract pattern.

 

A few seconds later, the spell was complete and Ginevra relaxed back on her armchair. The spell fooled any listening or recording devices into thinking a rather inane conversation was happening between the two witches, rather than the real one.

 

"Everything all right? You're looking a little tired there," her handler murmured, frowning.

 

"Tiring week. I've been there for too long so I can't accidentally interrupt any more meetings, and despite my efforts, I'm still far too low on the food chain to get an invitation. I can only do so much with my projects, and efforts are rewarded to the group rather than the individual. Not a bad idea, if it weren't so difficult to be individually noticed."

 

"Well, Jacques already saw a display of your power with those four wizards, so that should help things along if it changes in the future. Speaking of: how are things going with Jacques? Do you think he'll invite you to any of their meetings?"

 

"Not without Etienne's approval. I'm starting to think I should've gone with him instead," Ginevra muttered, though she winced at the idea alone.

 

"He's happily married, which is both unfortunate and rare for a French wizard of his age. If you try anything with him now, it will give him all he needs to drive a wedge between you and Jacques. Keep with Jacques; you'll get there eventually," her handler said.

 

Ginevra was silent for a moment, thinking back over the past three months. She sat up a little straighter, her handler raising an eyebrow curiously in return. "Jacques. You said he saw a display of my power with those wizards who hurt Odette, right?"

 

"Yes."

 

"He wasn't interested in me before then, even when the other wizards were all trying to get my attention; he only cared when I turned them into pretzels. He's only with me for my power. Oh, bloody hell, why didn't I realise this sooner?" Ginevra growled, annoyed at herself.

 

"You're not going to go in there with wand blazing, are you?" her handler asked.

 

"No, I'll have to be subtle about it. It's not like I've let off another display like that before. It'll have to be an accidental burst of power, after keeping it under wraps for so long. Mother always said it wasn't lady-like to have that much power," Amelie murmured.

 

"Right. Do you need anything for it?"

 

"No. There's a carnival coming up in the French Muggle world. That should provide enough distraction for what I need," Ginevra said.

 

"Are you sure the Muggle world is appropriate?"

 

"For this, it will be fine. There's so-called magicians there; the Muggles will think it's part of the show. I will not blow my cover," she added firmly.

 

A bubble around her hand started to flash red, warning that someone was Apparating in; probably Jacques returning from Avenir. The bubble provided a single second's delay in Apparating, and that was all Ginevra needed to become Amelie again, the spell dissolving around her immediately.

 

"Au revoir," her Aunt called the farewell jovially, Amelie repeating it and closing the grate just as Jacques arrived home.

 

Amelie smiled over at her boyfriend, her smile faltering when she saw how exhausted he looked. She hurried over to him and kissed his cheek in welcome.

 

"Ça va?"

 

"Ça va," he replied, shrugging out of his work robe. (All right.)

 

Amelie helped him undress, asking about dinner as his clothes fell to the floor. Jacques didn't reply, sweeping her up into a firm kiss, and Amelie supposed he wasn't hungry for food at least. She sighed against his mouth as he carried her to their bedroom, trying not to feel sick at his mouth on hers, his hands touching her, his body or cock anywhere near her. She forced herself to kiss him back, to moan and gasp appropriately, because Amelie loved her boyfriend and at this moment, she was still Amelie.

 

Later that night, she longed for two bodies wrapped around her instead of one, and thought of her favourite book with the words they'd underlined for her.

 

In the morning, Amelie told Jacques about the carnival her Aunt had raved about, her eyes wide as she asked if he'd like to go with her on a date. Jacques didn't look overly enthused about it being in the Muggle world, but agreed when he saw Amelie's disappointment. He rescheduled some work with Etienne to a different day, and bought tickets to the carnival for the next weekend.

 

The carnival itself was too bright for Amelie's senses, and she soon talked of a headache. There were a few low mutters about loud and rude Muggles that she ensured Jacques would overhear. He didn't seem offended, agreeing with her and glowering at a nearby rowdy group. Jacques offered to take Amelie home, but she refused; they'd only just arrived, and she would be fine if they just had somewhere nice and dark to sit for a while.

 

Jacques led her to one of the tents that seemed dark enough, and colour returned to Amelie's cheeks slowly. The stands weren't full of people, so they had a full row to themselves, though neither one were impressed with the so-called magician's tricks. Amelie muttered under her breath again, and Jacques pressed a kiss to her cheek as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

 

"Je t'aime," he said after she made one rude comment at the magician's "telekinesis". (I love you.)

 

It was rare for Jacques to initiate and say the words first, so much so that Amelie looked at him in surprise, and in front of them, three separate couples and a small family fell off their seats entirely. There were shouts from the couples and parents, and the child started to cry loudly. The magician's act interrupted, and everyone preoccupied, Amelie and Jacques escaped back out to the carnival. Amelie stopped in a side alley where they wouldn't be seen. She looked down at the grass as she held her grandfather's watch tightly for support.

 

"Désolé, Jacques. Mère a toujours dit qu'il est pas dame que d'avoir autant de pouvoir, et je tente de le garder sous contrôle, mais - " (Sorry. Mother always said it's not lady-like to have that much power, and I try to keep it under control, but - )

 

"Vous avez toujours ce genre de pouvoir?" Jacques asked, cutting her off. (You always have that kind of power?)

 

"Oui, mais il est si difficile de le cacher maintenant. Je comprends si tu ne me aimes plus," she said, sniffling as she turned away. (Yes, but it's so hard to hide it now. I understand if you don't love me anymore.)

 

"Amelie. Je t'aime. Cela ne change pas," he promised, pulling her close to kiss him. (I love you. This doesn't change that.)

 

Amelie sniffled again, looking up and daring to believe him, to think that Jacques was different from the others who'd seen her power and taken off running the other way. She saw nothing but acceptance in his face (she bypassed the greed and hunger in his expression), and hugged him tight.

 

"Tu veux bien me ramener à la maison?" she said, her voice trembling. (Will you take me home?)

 

"Bien sûr," he murmured, pressing a brief kiss to her lips and Side-Apparating them away. (Of course.)

 

In the morning, Jacques invited her to meet with Etienne so he could test her power.

 

...

 

Ginny woke up cocooned in the sheet, Draco and Blaise barely covered in a small triangle of the material themselves. Draco grabbed his small triangle of material and rolled until he had enough to cover his thigh at the very least, Ginny rolling with the action. It took the sheet away from Blaise, who sleepily reached out and rolled the sheet the other way, Ginny rolling again.

 

"Bloody hell," she muttered, tired and sore from rolling every which way.

 

Ginny reached over Blaise's head, grabbed her wand and tapped on the sheet to duplicate it twice over. Draco mumbled something sleepily about Snitches and rolled over with his sheet. Blaise snuggled into his own sheet and fell straight back to sleep.

 

Putting her wand back, Ginny contemplated staying awake. It was almost 4am, so she only had about 45 minutes before she had to wake up anyway, but she was also curious about what had happened with Etienne.

 

_Go to sleep or stay awake, I don't care; just make a gods' damned decision_ , Ginevra muttered.

 

_Shut up_ , Ginny muttered in return, yawning widely and slowly falling back to sleep.

 

...

 

"Jacques pense que vous avez le pouvoir. Je pense que son esprit a été ensorcelé," Etienne muttered while Jacques was distracted with another colleague. (Jacques thinks you have power. I think his mind has been bewitched.)

 

Amelie forcibly shoved Ginevra down at that comment, and smiled innocently. "Je l'aime comme il me aime. Mon pouvoir n'a rien à voir avec cela." (I love him as he loves me. My power has nothing to do with that.)

 

"On verra," Etienne snarled, his expression giving way to a more neutral one as Jacques returned. (We'll see about that.)

 

"Prêt, belle?" Jacques asked, smiling at her encouragingly through the glass. (Ready, beautiful?)

 

Amelie smiled and nodded, foolish in love, and apparently willing to prove it. She couldn't let out too much power though; Ginevra had more power than Amelie, and she hadn't been joking about keeping it under control. There were spells in place to ensure that she didn't have a magically-induced blow-out, of course, but there were also far more delicate spells to ensure that her true magical signature couldn't be released or seen. The more power Amelie used, the closer to Ginevra's power she came. This would be a very delicate procedure, especially with Etienne monitoring every jolt of power that she would be issuing. Ginevra briefly wondered if it was too late to back out, but Amelie could be just as stubborn as her counterpart, and she steadfastly refused to leave.

 

"Prêt," she said with a firm nod.

 

Jacques stepped back and Amelie lifted her wand. At Etienne's instruction, she completed spell after spell, the magic caught in the glass instead of flying off every which way and possibly hexing herself or others in the process. Her wand arm starting to go numb after the twentieth spell, but Amelie kept going. She kept a firm hold on her power, letting it spike here and there, reducing it for some of the harder spells, increasing it for the more common ones, then sometimes changing it all together. Jaques watched the results flowing onto the parchment over Etienne's shoulder, and Amelie hoped it would be enough to convince them both that she needed to be kept around.

 

Odette had been worried about her since Amelie had told her about Jacques asking her out. After one particularly bad day, Odette had pulled Amelie aside and told her about Jacques' last girlfriend who hadn't been seen since they had broken up. The witch had been confident, had told Marcel that she wouldn't stop working at Avenir just because she and Jacques stopped dating, but the next day, she never turned up for work. Marcel was sure that she hadn't even left work because he'd found her bag at her desk, but no one had seen her leave the building.

 

Odette had made Amelie promise to come to her if she ever needed help. Amelie agreed and hugged her friend, and two weeks later, Amelie moved in with Jacques. Odette hadn't been around as much since then, especially if Jacques sat with Amelie at lunch. Amelie had practically begged Jacques to stay in for lunch so she could see Odette, claiming she couldn't gossip about him if he was there. Jacques had laughed but agreed, and let Etienne pull him away. Amelie found that as long as Jacques wasn't there, Odette would sit with her without a problem. There were a few anxious expressions and quiet questions, but Amelie assured her friend that she was fine each time. Amelie wondered if that was the only thing that had happened to make Odette so afraid of Jacques. One person going missing and leaving their bag behind could be explained away easily enough, but for the kind of fear that Odette showed, there had to be more to it than that.

 

Marcel had explained more a few days after Amelie moved in with Jacques. A wizard that Odette had fancied had disappeared a few months before Amelie's arrival, again without explanation, goodbye, or anyone seeing him leave. There had been speculation and whispers, but nothing had been forthcoming from their superiors, not even to say he'd been fired. Marcel had told Amelie how powerful the wizard was, despite his mixed background of Muggle and wizard, and how he'd disappeared soon after demonstrating several intricate Charms in the lunch area. Powerful people never seemed to stay at Avenir for very long.

 

Finally, Etienne stopped calling out spells, and Amelie gratefully lowered her arm. She stepped out of the glass area, wondering what would happen now, hoping she'd kept enough control of her power that Ginevra's magical signature wouldn't be recognised. If it was, then she was well and truly fucked, and would probably end up as another name whispered in hallways and added to the list of missing witches and wizards of Avenir.

 

"Vous avez un certain pouvoir. Pas autant que Jacques me disait; il fluctue trop pour être vraiment puissant," Etienne said, looking over his glasses at her. (You have some power. Not as much as Jacques was telling me; it fluctuates too much to be truly powerful.)

 

"Mais avec la pratique - " Jacques said. (But with practice.)

 

"Non, ce ne sera pas utile. Je ne serai jamais assez bon pour lui. Si vous me excuserez, je sorts pour modifier," Amelie said, her voice and bottom lip trembling. (No, it won't help. I will never be good enough for him. If you'll excuse me, I have spells to alter.)

 

The words themselves were true enough - Etienne would never let her further than the work area, which was far too tidy considering the state Jacques came home every night - but she just had to hope that it would be enough to drive a wedge between the two wizards. Another magic-fuelled blowout would be enough to convince Jacques of her power, but she couldn't do it right now when she was so worn out from Etienne's testing.

 

Amelie's hands trembled, but she kept her head high for the moment. She refused to break down crying unless she was somewhere far more public than Etienne's work area. Wizards were far too susceptible to witches crying, and it would draw sympathy from the others since no one at Avenir actually liked Etienne anyway.

 

She made sure others saw her trembling, the shaking of her shoulders, and after a few more moments of being brave, Amelie burst into tears and sobbed into her hands. A small crowd of concerned and curious workers were around her in moments; they'd all seen her exit from Etienne's work area, after all.

 

"Est ce que tu vas bien?" Marcel asked, sounding worried. (Are you okay?)

 

"Oui, ça va," she said through her tears. "Désolé," Amelie said, pushing past the gathered crowd and walking as fast as possible to the toilets. (Yes, I'm fine. Sorry.)

 

No one followed her, but Marcel must have left to gossip with Odette as soon as she'd left, because within a matter of minutes, Odette walked in.

 

"Que faisait-il pour vous?" Odette asked viciously. (What did he do to you?)

 

"Etienne me déteste. Il essaie de nous séparer, et ... je veux juste être avec Jacques," Amelie sobbed into her friend's shoulder. (Etienne hates me. He's trying to break us up, and ... I just want to be with Jacques.)

 

Odette stiffened slightly, obviously thinking of the many who had disappeared, but she was Amelie's best - and only - friend in France, so Amelie knew her friend would support her. Odette sighed and hugged Amelie tightly before pulling away.

 

"C'est un con," she said firmly, Amelie laughing and wiping at her tears. (He's a prick.)

 

"Oui. Désolé, Odette."

 

"Non. Ne sois pas désolé," she murmured, using her wand to fix Amelie's makeup and dabbing at her tears with toilet paper. (No. Don't be sorry.)

 

"Je ne devrais pas pleurer comme ça. Je suis venu ici pour travailler, et maintenant je suis un gâchis," Amelie said, taking the offered toilet paper to blow her nose. (I shouldn't be crying like this. I came here to work, and now I'm a mess.)

 

"L'amour est en désordre. Et inattendu," Odette said, almost as though she was thinking to herself aloud. (Love is messy. And unexpected.)

 

Amelie nodded and thanked her friend, hugging her again.

 

"Bien. Maintenant, gardez la tête haute. Vous êtes assez grand pour regarder par-dessus Etienne puis," Odette said, grinning. (Good. Now, keep your head high. You're tall enough to look over Etienne then.)

 

Amelie laughed and let Odette lead the way.

 

Jacques was waiting for her when she returned to her desk, and Amelie tried not to grin when she saw Marcel glowering at Jacques from his own work station.

 

"Êtes-vous bien, belle?" Jacques asked, cupping her cheek gently. (Are you all right, beautiful?)

 

Amelie smiled up at him and nodded.

 

"Monsieur, s'il vous plaît dites-Etienne que sa demande de financement a été rejetée," Odette said, the firmest and loudest her voice had ever been while around Jacques. (Sir, please tell Etienne that his request for funding has been rejected.)

 

Jacques seemed surprised that Odette was even standing there, but looked from her to Amelie and grinned. "Je vais lui faire savoir." (I'll let him know.)

 

For the rest of the week, Etienne had every financial difficulty known to man or wizard: he was unable to get more funding for his research, had his company quill rejected several times, and couldn't even get the four Sickles required for a new cauldron.

 

Amelie was somewhat surprised that her friend had so much pull in the financing area, but Odette confided that she was one of the few in her department who actually knew how to process a financial request. Amelie couldn't help but grin at that, even though Jacques was somewhat sour when even his request for funding had been denied.

 

On Friday afternoon, Etienne finally issued an apology to Amelie in front of her co-workers, though the words were clipped and hardly meaningful. Odette waited until Amelie accepted his apology to re-issue him with a grant for his research, a brand new company quill, and then informed Etienne that his cauldron was waiting in the supply department.

 

Etienne didn't dare mutter about Odette within hearing distance, and from then on, kept his comments about Amelie to himself as well.

 

...

 

Ginny woke up with her alarm quill. Beside her, Draco flung an arm at the night stand, almost knocking his wand instead.

 

"I've got it," Ginny said, reaching over Draco to grab the quill, twisting it to turn it off.

 

"Can I wake up like this every morning?" Draco asked, his words muffled under her breasts.

 

His breath tickled against her skin, his lips hot and firm against her body, and with a grin, Ginny stayed where she was, humming contemplatively. Draco grabbed her breasts, squeezing, and pressed numerous noisy kisses to them as Ginny laughed on top of him, his lips tickling.

 

"If either of you hit me, they'll never find the bodies," Blaise groaned from under his sheet.

 

Draco stopped kissing and tickling Ginny, peeking his head out from somewhere under her ribs to look at his boyfriend. "You're not usually _this_ grumpy to completely ignore us being naked. What's wrong?"

 

"Need more sleep. Fuck off."

 

"Bloody sod, now I'm going to make sure you wake up," Draco muttered. "'scuse, Gin," he added, sliding out from under her completely to flop on top of Blaise.

 

Ginny bit her hand so she wouldn't start laughing outright. Draco squirmed around on top of Blaise, humming bits of a Weird Sisters song that Ginny _knew_ Blaise hated. Blaise let out an undignified noise, rolled over, and shoved Draco onto the floor. He landed with a yelp and several curses.

 

"My arse is going to bruise because of that, you bastard," Draco complained as he stood up with a pout, rubbing his sore arse. "You should kiss it better."

 

"If I open my eyes to see your arse in my face this early in the morning, I'm going to grind you up and add you to my morning coffee," Blaise threatened, his voice muffled by his pillow.

 

"You only have coffee when you're _really_ grumpy. Poor Blaise," Draco cooed, straddling Blaise and starting to kiss him.

 

_I'm not dreaming again, am I?_ Ginny asked, watching as Draco coerced Blaise into kissing him back, grinding his hips down against Blaise's slowly.

 

_No, just keep watching_ , Ginevra replied, sounding both smug and a little breathless.

 

Ginny wrapped her sheet around her body, feeling much cooler now that she wasn't pressed between her lovers. She watched as Draco started to stroke along Blaise's shoulder and bicep, his fingers drawing nonsensical little patterns along his skin, goosebumps following along Blaise's darker skin. Blaise gave a small moan, needy and wanting at the same time, and Draco pulled away to sit back and smirk down at him.

 

"That's a better start to the morning, isn't it?"

 

"Shut up and get back here," Blaise muttered, pulling him down again.

 

"Gin, care to join us?" Draco asked, pressing a few lazy kisses to Blaise's mouth.

 

"I've got to get to work, but you two keep going. I'll be in and out while I'm getting ready, so I'll be happy to watch," Ginny said, leaning forward to kiss Draco and then Blaise.

 

"Better idea: we help you get ready," Draco said, hitching his hips forward slightly to make Blaise moan again.

 

"We all know there'd be significantly less _helping_ when you're involved. Stay here and tease Blaise instead," Ginny said, kissing Draco's cheek as she passed by to go to the ensuite.

 

"Hmm. Bet you a Galleon I can make you scream louder than Gin's shower," Draco said, smirking at him.

 

Blaise glared at him. "There'll be no screaming happening while I'm still under this sheet, you pillock."

 

"I accept that challenge. Galleons on the table."

 

"Do I honestly look like I've got a Galleon on me right now?"

 

"I'm worth at least ten Galleons," Draco quipped. "Maybe a hundred; I haven't decided yet."

 

Blaise muttered something under his breath, then in a fast motion, pulled Draco down and flipped them so Draco was flat on his back instead.

 

"New challenge: I make _you_ scream."

 

"You think you can make me scream before I make you scream?" Draco scoffed.

 

"Oh, I _know_ I can," Blaise sneered.

 

Ten minutes later, Ginny heard both Draco and Blaise let out screams of desire, and poked her head out of the shower to hear them cursing at each other heatedly, the words cut off between kisses. She rolled her eyes and continued showering, washing the shampoo suds from her hair. Ginny just hoped that the house elves didn't think they were being murdered again.

 

She finished showering before Draco or Blaise (or more likely, both) came to offer their own brand of help, and stepped out to dry herself, applying several drying charms to her wet hair. Getting dressed took a few minutes longer than usual since Ginny couldn't find her other boot; she swore the damn thing hopped away in the middle of the night. Finding it under the chaise instead of by the door where the other boot had been, Ginny cursed the damn thing, then shoved her foot in and laced the boot up firmly.

 

"Sure you still want to go to work, Gin? We can spend the rest of the day betting on orgasms instead," Draco cajoled.

 

Beside him, Blaise had fallen back to sleep and was snoring lightly.

 

"You both need more sleep. You can visit me for lunch if you're not busy with orgasms," she teased, kissing him lightly.

 

"We can do both! Oh, I know, we can eat you for lunch instead," Draco said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

 

Ginny rolled her eyes, grabbed her pillow, and smacked him in the face with it. "Go to sleep, Draco."

 

His laughter followed Ginny as she Apparated to _The Quibbler_ to start her work week.

 

...

 

End of the thirty-ninth chapter.

 

Thanks for reading!


	40. Chapter 40

Luna knocked on Ginny's door, smiling at her when she saw the look of surprise on Ginny's face. "Do you have a minute, Ginny?"

"For you, always."

Luna grinned and entered the office, closing the door behind her. "I'm glad you're back and safe; it's always a nasty business when employees go missing."

"Uh... what?"

As far as Ginny knew, Luna had nothing to do with Cloffice, and her disappearance to complete her so-called training for Training Centre Four had been blurred in the memories of _The Quibbler_ employees.

"You're not the first to have a sudden disappearance while working here; there's an awful high turnaround for my journalists, and I noticed that there was a pattern, if you know where and how to look. They all went missing around the three-month mark, then turned up looking... well, like they'd seen Hell itself, to be quite frank. I have no idea what happens to any of you, but I really thought I'd never see that look on your face again after the Final Battle."

Ginny still wasn't sure how to respond. Her mind was a blur of emotions, fear and worry at the forefront, and she felt frozen in her seat.

"It's all right, Ginny, I'm not going to say anything to anyone," Luna promised, reaching out to pat her hand. "It's not like anyone would believe me, anyway," she added, looking a little more like her Hogwarts self, smiling and shrugging. "Now, are you really all right? You can go into as little or as much detail as you'd like," Luna said, patting her robe pockets for a moment before pulling out a portable Pensieve, much like the one George owned. "Rolf gave it to me as an anniversary present."

"That's nice," Ginny said, sounding breathless as the words forced their way past the lump in her throat.

"Yes, it is. If you would like to talk to me, I'll put it all in here and promptly forget about it; you can even set a password on the memory, if you'd like?"

"Is this a test?" Ginny blurted out.

Luna frowned, considering her question deeply. "I don't think it is. I'm not testing you, at least, and I haven't seen any shadowy witches or wizards hanging about. Besides, there's a silencing charm on the door. In fact, there's one on all of the doors; it's a requirement for any interviews that are held here."

Ginny watched her friend for the telltale signs of a lie, but there was nothing. Luna was telling the truth. Ginny licked her lips hesitantly, wondering what she should do. Before she could decide, the fireplace lit up orange behind Luna. She felt a sense of relief at the sight.

"I've got an incoming Floo, sorry, Luna."

"Not a problem. Maybe another time," she said, patting her hand again with a smile.

"Maybe," Ginny said noncommittally. "Thanks for stopping by, Lu."

"Always nice to see you, Gin-gin," she replied, smiling when she saw Ginny grin at the nickname.

Luna grabbed her portable Pensieve, pocketed it, and left a moment later. She saw the fireplace change to green as she closed the door behind her, and in those few seconds, Luna swore she heard Draco Malfoy's voice. Though she was curious, Luna left and headed to her office. She closed the door behind her and sat in her chair, looking out the window to the overcast day outside.

"I know you're there, Pansy. No need to hide," she said pleasantly, looking to where Pansy was standing.

"I'm not hiding and you know it, you insufferable witch. Now, what did Ginny say?"

"She seemed worried that it was another one of your tests. Her Floo went off before she could say anything important, though I'm not sure she would have said anything anyway," Luna admitted.

"Dammit. If she won't go see the psychiatrist, then using you is the next best alternative."

"Just because I retired, it doesn't mean I'm second-best," Luna amended, eyes sharp.

Pansy sat across from Luna, the uncomfortable chair changing to an armchair beneath her. "Of course not, Lu. I wasn't implying that in the slightest. The psychiatrist we've got on staff now is a bit of a prick anyway."

"It's difficult to find good psychiatrists who are willing to put themselves through everything your employees go through, Pansy. Depending on our empathy, we can be just as affected as the witches or wizards in question."

"He said that Neville and Dennis have an unhealthy co-dependent relationship."

There was silence for a heartbeat.

"I stand corrected: what a prick."

"You're sure you won't come out of retirement?" Pansy asked, almost desperately now.

"Positive, Pans. I happen to like this work; it's nice to not wake up with nightmares every night."

Pansy sighed heavily and ran a hand over her face. "Sorry, Lu. I've just... It's been a bad month."

"It's only the third of the month, Pansy."

"Fine, a bad two months, then."

"Want to talk about it?" Luna offered, bringing out her portable Pensieve again.

Pansy pulled a slight face, but after a moment, she nodded. Luna tapped her wand to her temple, then her Pensieve, and sat back to let Pansy start talking. As Pansy talked, the memory of their conversation would be redirected straight into Luna's Pensieve, allowing Luna to forget it as soon as they were finished. As she had offered to Ginny, the memory could be protected by a password, and as she would completely forget about the conversation, Luna wouldn't be able to find it again or even access it without Pansy's password.

Pansy waited for a moment until Luna was comfortable, and then took a breath before she started. "Skeleton's missing and not even Snare can find her."

...

Ginny grinned at the sight of Draco and Blaise, both looking mussed as if they'd both just rolled out of bed. Or just finished having another round of sex.

"I'm surprised you actually made it here," she teased, kissing Blaise and then Draco.

"We almost didn't; _someone_ decided to join me in the shower," Blaise said, glowering over at Draco.

"You weren't complaining when I had your cock in my mouth."

"I told you that we were running late to meet Gin," he muttered.

"I got you off in under five minutes," Draco replied. "You would've spent that extra time in the shower wanking anyway."

"That's not the point," Blaise said.

Ginevra snorted. _I think the real issue is that Blaise didn't get to reciprocate._

 _Oh, definitely. Should I rectify that now?_ Ginny mused.

_Definitely._

"Oh, Draco? I think you're missing Blaise's point," Ginny said, eyes glinting with mischief as they both looked at her.

"What would that be?"

"Blaise wanted to have more time to get _his mouth_ on _your cock_ ," Ginny said.

Draco looked over at Blaise, who was still doing his pouting thing, then smirked. "Oh, I do apologise, love. How very remiss of me," he said, pressing a few light kisses to Blaise's jawline.

"You should know better," Blaise muttered, tugging at Draco's hair.

"Mm, I should."

"Before you get too excited; did either of you actually bring food for lunch?" Ginny asked, looking between them.

"Blaise has it."

"Draco has it."

They looked at each other with such fierce glares that Ginny almost wanted to laugh.

" _You_ were meant to bring it!" Blaise said.

"No, we agreed that _you_ were. Remember, before the shower, you said you'd get it because I'd forget?" Draco said.

"You honestly expect me to remember anything after that orgasm?" Draco immediately preened and Blaise groaned. "No, don't take that as a compliment! Your ego can't handle more," he muttered, but Draco obviously ignored him.

"I think I might go get lunch; are you two coming, or will you be staying in for that?" Ginny asked, grinning.

Blaise glared at his two lovers. "I'm going to get sweet revenge on _both_ of you tonight."

Draco smirked and grabbed Blaise's hand, threading their fingers together. "Look forward to it, love."

Ginny pecked a light kiss to Blaise's lips. "Food now, sex later."

"Nice to see you've got your priorities sorted," Blaise said, a little sourly.

Draco kissed Blaise, longer and deeper than Ginny's brief kiss. "C'mon, love. Food awaits."

Blaise was still muttering about orgasms when Ginny took his hand to Side-Apparate them away for lunch.

...

Mrs. Fairley was delighted that Draco and Blaise were both still with Ginny, and rewarded Draco with the biggest eclair she had left in stock. Blaise ordered a croissant and Eton mess, alternating his bites between the savoury and sweet, much to Draco's disgust.

"I still can't believe you do that, you heathen," Draco said, glowering at the remains of Blaise's lunch.

"It's all going to the same place," Blaise said, shrugging. "Besides, if I left the dessert _or_ the croissant for last and something happened that would make me miss out on either one, then I would live to regret it."

"I'm regretting going to lunch with you," Draco muttered. "I take back the orgasm."

Blaise snorted. "A bit late for that, love; I already had the orgasm."

"Future orgasms, then."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You don't know what I'd dare if you take another bite."

Blaise looked between the remaining three bites of his food and Draco. Then, with a smirk worthy of painting, he lifted his croissant to his mouth.

"Oh, you little shit."

"Draco, language!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Fairley."

"Don't lie to me, boy."

"Sorry, Mrs. Fairley!"

Blaise almost choked on his croissant in his laughter.

"You deserve it, you bastard," Draco hissed, his voice quiet.

Mrs. Fairley glared at Draco from across the room, as if she'd heard him anyway. Ginny bit back her own laughter and shook her head at the two wizards.

"Draco, you're eating dessert for lunch, stop being so picky about the way Blaise is eating his food. Blaise, stop tormenting Draco."

"He started it," Blaise muttered.

"Did not!" Draco retorted.

"Oh, that's it! No orgasms for _either_ of you for the rest of the week!" Ginny snapped.

" _What?!_ But it's Tuesday!" Draco said, his eyes wide. Beside him, Blaise was staring at Ginny as though she'd grown a second head.

"You heard me. We're meant to be having lunch together and all you've been doing is arguing like petulant little boys."

Draco looked like he wanted to argue with her and was promptly elbowed in the ribs by Blaise.

"Is there anything we can do to reduce our sentence?" he asked, his fingers trailing along the back of her hand in a far too seductive manner.

Ginny pulled her hand away to take up her napkin and dab at her mouth. "I'll reconsider on Friday, if you're good."

"What does being _good_ entail exactly? I can be good at so many things," Draco said, voice taking on a breathless note as he realised what Blaise was trying to do.

"We both can be good; you _know_ how good we can be," Blaise added.

Ginny hid a smile behind her napkin, her expression neutral by the time she lowered it once more. "You're only going to get yourselves worked up, so you might as well stop now."

Draco and Blaise were silent for a moment, looking to each other and then to her. Blaise sighed and shook his head. Draco slumped back in his seat.

" _Fuck_."

"Draco, language!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Fairley."

Ginny grinned and sipped at her tea. In her mind, Ginevra was laughing so hard that a few giggles almost slipped out of Ginny's mouth.

 _Hush, you'll ruin it_ , Ginny admonished.

 _Oh, I bet they won't even last 'til Thursday. Poor boys are going to be so desperate for you, they'll do anything you ask_.

 _That's the point, isn't it?_ Ginny replied sweetly, Ginevra laughing heartily in response.

...

Amelie was becoming stronger, her spells faster and holding up longer than most expected or would be able to achieve themselves. It was all Jacques' doing, of course. The support and love her boyfriend had shown her was enough to make Amelie comfortable in herself and stop trying to downplay the amount of power she actually had. When Amelie's modified Cheering Charm lasted six straight hours on a rat, Etienne finally took notice.

It wasn't enough to be invited to the real work area, nor to any of the meetings, but Amelie soon found that Etienne was the one watching her and Jacques was the one ready to pull his partner away by the lapels of his work robe.

"Etienne, venir. On a du travail," Jacques said, winking at Amelie as he led his friend away. (Come. We have work to do.)

Amelie hid a smile and kept working on her sleeping charm.

A week later, Amelie's side-project was complete. She had three others in her department attempt the charm, each of them managing almost eight hours of sleep on their rats. Considering a normal sleeping charm usually only lasted four hours and had to be re-administered often, the improvement was impressive enough on its own. Then, with Etienne and Jacques both hovering close by, Amelie did the charm on her rat. Fourteen hours later, the rat began to wake up again. None of the rats showed any signs of distress nor side effects from the charm.

After some more testing, this time with members of the public, Avenir eventually released the charm's design to the French hospitals in order to better help their patients. Most nurses and doctors could administer the charm for ten hours, though the modification did allow for as little as six hours if the need arose.

In Avenir, Amelie's whole team were given a pay raise as a reward for the charm's success, even though Amelie had been the one to do the work. Supposedly, rewarding everyone in the team increased morale and decreased bitterness towards fellow employees. Ginevra wasn't quite sure that was correct, since bitterness could still be felt by the person doing all of the work, but she definitely wasn't going to be the one to tell the others at Avenir that.

"Amelie," Etienne called from his workroom door, waving to her. "Viens avec moi." (Come with me.)

Amelie looked up from her work, blinking in surprise at Etienne's demand. She slipped her wand into her pocket and grabbed her Grand-pére's pocket watch, clutching it tightly for support.

Etienne waved at her impatiently. "Dépêche-toi maintenant!" (Hurry up now.)

"Est-ce que tout va bien?" (Is everything all right?)

"Oui, très bien. Nous avons un test pour vous," Etienne replied, guiding her into his workroom. (Yes, fine. We have a test for you.)

"J'ai déjà fait le test," Amelie said, frowning in confusion. (I've already done the test.)

Ginevra felt her heart race when she realised they were passing both Etienne and Jacques' work desks. _Was she finally being taken to the_ ** _real_** _work area?!_ She couldn't see Jacques anywhere, so she supposed he was already inside and waiting.

Etienne led her through the workroom and to the back wall that was covered in shelves of beakers, vials, and other assortments of equipment that didn't seem out of place. There wasn't even any dust on the shelves.

"Il s'agit d'un test différent," Etienne said, then told Amelie to turn around. (This is a different test.)

Etienne waited until he was certain she had her back to him before he tapped a pattern on the equipment, the shelves shimmering and disappearing from sight. He coughed, indicating Amelie could turn around again.

She did so in a cautious manner, not quite sure what to expect. Amelie's jaw dropped at the sight before her, the shelves gone from sight and an open door in its place. The door opened into another workroom, this one just as bright as the one she was currently standing in. It certainly defied Ginevra's expectations; she had expected something cold and dreary, perhaps dirty and dusty with water periodically dripping, more like a dungeon or prison than _this_.

Etienne seemed smug at Amelie's reaction. She looked at him, portraying innocence and a hint of curiosity when she asked, "Quel est cet endroit?" (What is this place?)

"Où nous faisons le vrai travail de l'avenir. Votre charme n'était rien comparé à ce travail." (Where we do the _real_ work of Avenir. Your charm was _nothing_ compared to this work.)

Ginevra bit her tongue at that; _if her spell was_ ** _nothing_** _, then why was she here?_

Amelie simply nodded genially in response.

Etienne huffed and walked through the door, leading her into the alternative workroom. Jacques was at a table nearby, a pair of goggles perched on top of his head, his shirt sleeves folded up above his forearms, and his tie hanging off a nearby chair. Across from him, a young man was strapped into a tall chair, his eyes wide and his mouth sealed shut.

"Amelie, bienvenue!" Jacques said charmingly, pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks. (Welcome!)

"Qu'est-ce qui se passe ici?" Amelie asked, confused and concerned. (What is going on here?)

The man across from them moaned something, the noise unintelligible with his mouth magically sealed shut, but to Ginevra, it sounded like **_run_**.

"Nous faisons un travail très important ici et nous avons besoin de votre aide, de votre pouvoir. Pouvez-vous faire ça pour moi, belle?" Jacques asked, stroking her face with his thumb gently. (We are doing very important work here and we need your help, your power. Can you do that for me, beautiful?)

"Quel travail important?" (What important work?)

"Si vous allez poser des questions - " Etienne snapped, but was interrupted by Jacques. (If you're just going to ask questions - )

"Non. Elle a le droit de savoir, Etienne," Jacques said, then looked away from Amelie to the man strapped into the chair. "Savez-vous ce qu'il est?" (No. She has a right to know, Etienne. Do you know what he is?)

"Un sorcier?" (A wizard?)

"Non. Il est beaucoup moins que cela. Il est un demi-sang," Jacques spat. (No. He is far less than that. He is a _half-blood_.)

Ginevra felt her blood run cold. She thought of Hermione, Dennis, Dean; she thought of her friends both from and since Hogwarts who weren't pureblooded, and imagined it was them, terrified and strapped into the chair.

Amelie looked at Jacques. "Que voulez-vous que je fasse?" (What do you want me to do?)

Jacques smiled. "Nous voulons juste que vous fassiez un sort simple." (We just want you to perform a simple spell.)

Etienne handed a piece of parchment to her, the spell written down in clear French.

"Un sort de vérité? Pourquoi ne pas utiliser Veritaserum?" (A truth spell? Why not use Veritaserum?)

Etienne muttered something obscene under his breath, obviously annoyed at her questions, but Jacques simply smiled.

"Il ya des façons de Veritaserum. Le sort de vérité arrivera au cœur de la question dans un instant, en particulier avec votre puissance de ravitaillement, belle." (There are ways around Veritaserum. The truth spell will get to the heart of the matter in a moment, especially with your power fuelling it, beautiful.)

He was right, of course. With the amount of power Amelie was displaying now, a truth spell from her would eradicate nearly every defense a person could create. Ginevra desperately tried to think of something to help this poor man; she had no idea who he was or what he'd done, but a truth spell had complications and consequences, similar to what the Longbottoms had experienced at the wand tip of Bellatrix Lestrange. _Could she really condemn this wizard to that sort of life? What if he had a family, as she did, or friends, or someone waiting at home for him?_

"Tu ne m'aideras pas?" Etienne asked, sneering as though he had expected nothing less from her. (You will not help?)

"Je mémorise le sort. C'est un sort délicat à effectuer sans détruire complètement son esprit. Vous ne pouvez pas obtenir des réponses d'un esprit brisé," Amelie said, glaring back at him. (I am memorising the spell. It is a delicate spell to perform without completely destroying his mind. You cannot get answers from a broken mind.)

Jacques glared at his friend and moved Etienne away from Amelie; Etienne was still close enough to watch, so he would be appeased, but he was far enough that Amelie wouldn't be able to turn and hex him. Jacques almost considered letting her; it would provide some entertainment, at least.

"S'il vous plaît continuez, belle," he said warmly, smiling at her. (Please, go on, beautiful.)

"Oui," Amelie replied.

Ginevra looked down at the spell once more, a vague sort of plan springing to her mind. It would take care and precision, but she was almost positive that she could do it. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm her racing heart, slow her thoughts, and then she lifted her wand and pointed it at the wizard.

The man's eyes widened in fear.

Ginevra started the spell, Amelie taking over a second later.

A lot can happen in a single second. For example, if a witch or wizard is fast enough, they can complete an entire spell in a second. This is exactly what Ginevra did in that moment, layering the wizard's mind to offer him some protection against the harsher truth spell that would follow. It wasn't a fool-proof design, especially when completed in a second, but for now, it would be enough to help the wizard defy some of the truth spell at least. Over time, her first spell's protection would lessen until it became completely useless, like a piece of parchment acting as a shield against a raging fire. Ginevra hoped it would hold.

"Merci, belle," Jacques whispered, pressing a firm kiss to her lips.

Amelie smiled at Jacques, so happy that she had pleased him. He turned to the half-blood and undid the spell on his mouth. Before he could ask anything, Etienne led Amelie back to the original workroom, almost shoving her out the door.

"Retour à votre travail!" (Return to your work!)

Amelie brushed her clothes off and returned to her desk, ignoring the curious looks she had from the rest of her team. In that moment, it felt as though everything had changed.

...

 _We're getting near the end of Amelie's memories, aren't we?_ Ginny asked, blinking up at the ceiling.

Ginevra sighed. _Sort of, yes, and at the same time, not at all. I've only been showing you the important parts, really_.

 _Yes, well, we're getting closer to that memory you're still guarding_ , Ginny pointed out.

 _You won our fight, you can access the memory any time you'd like_ , Ginevra offered.

Ginny didn't respond. From the little she'd seen of that memory, she wasn't entirely sure she _ever_ wanted to see it. It was a useless thing to think though, because even Ginny knew that she'd have to find out the truth sooner rather than later. Her return to the Centaur Liaison Office wasn't a coincidence and neither was Ginevra's return in her mind. She needed to be ready for whatever the future would bring, and that guarded memory would be vital.

"Gin, come to bed. We're being good and we're not even making out. Bedtime's boring without you," Draco said.

"Draco, you're whining. Honestly, I've heard children who sound more grown up than you do right now," Blaise muttered, rolling his eyes.

"You're just grumpy 'cause we can't make out."

"I never said you couldn't make out," Ginny pointed out, smirking.

Draco's eyes widened and then he grinned, immediately throwing himself against Blaise's body, making out with him messily.

"But we all know that when you're involved, making out leads to orgasms, doesn't it?" Ginny added, sitting up off the chaise and looking over to her lovers.

Draco pulled away from Blaise slowly and ever so reluctantly, his lips wet and red from being bitten. Blaise was breathing heavily beneath Draco, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to think of Quidditch statistics.

"Blaise. Blaise, look at me," Draco said, sounding serious enough that Blaise opened his eyes a moment later. "Blaise, Gin only said _we_ couldn't have orgasms."

Realisation dawned on Blaise a moment later and he grinned up at his wonderful and _brilliant_ boyfriend. Draco smirked, wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and they both moved to sit up on the bed in a fluid motion.

Ginny looked between them curiously, an eyebrow arched at how quiet and controlled they were in that moment, especially considering how riled up they'd been only a minute ago. In her mind, she could hear Ginevra laughing.

"We're going to bed now, Gin. Would you care to join us?" Blaise offered, patting the empty space between him and Draco.

Ginny tried to figure out what their plan was, standing up slowly and walking over to the bed. She stood beside it for a long moment, looking at Draco and then Blaise and back again, as if staring at them long enough would reveal what they were thinking.

"Come on, Gin. We're being good, remember?" Draco prompted.

"Yes, I can see that. The only problem is that neither of you are ever _good_ ," Ginny replied warily.

"You wound me," Draco said, hand to his chest.

"You idiot. Ignore him, Gin. We're going to have a good night's rest, all right?" Blaise said, offering his hand to her.

Ginny still didn't believe either one of them, but took Blaise's offered hand and climbed over him to get to her usual spot in the middle of the bed. Draco turned off the lights with a flick of his wand and they all settled down to sleep. Well, Ginny did, at least.

Draco waited until she was settled in to bed, slipping up behind her and pressing a few light kisses to her shoulder.

"Draco, what are you doing?" Ginny asked.

"Helping you relax, of course. I'm completely innocent."

Ginny snorted. "Yeah, right."

Blaise started caressing her a moment later, his fingers light against her arm and tickling against her skin. His fingers headed further down from the curve of her elbow, brushing along the side of her stomach gently.

"Blaise!"

"Yes, Gin?"

"You're meant to be sleeping."

"Helping you relax, like Draco said."

Ginny made a noise of disbelief, but she didn't stop them. It was quite relaxing after all, and she honestly didn't mind the feeling of their lips and fingers on her skin.

Draco's kisses started up her neck, nosing at the place behind her ear that drove her silly. Blaise's caresses continued further down, his fingers teasing and drawing nonsensical patterns along her hip and down her thigh.

Ginny could feel her body slowly starting to respond to their ministrations and suddenly realised exactly what they were trying to do.

Draco bit her earlobe, pressing the length of his body up against hers and drawing a soft gasp from Ginny in response.

"All right, Gin?" Blaise asked, sounding amused. His lips were mere millimetres away from hers and close to brushing up against Ginny's with every word he spoke.

"I hate you both."

"Love you too, Gin," Blaise whispered against her cheek.

Draco wrapped an arm around Ginny's torso, one hand cupping her breast. "Such cruel words before bedtime. You don't mean them, do you?" he asked, words teasing against the back of her ear.

"Bastard."

Draco huffed a laugh, the air warm against the shell of Ginny's ear. "Love you too."

Blaise's fingers were sliding along her skin with more purpose now, a firmer touch that made her arch and press for more. In contrast, his lips were light, pressing barely there kisses to her cheeks and lips.

Behind her, Draco was cradling her close, her body pressed up against him firmly enough to feel his erection nestled against her arse. His hand was still cupping her breast, his thumb flicking and rubbing her pebbling nipple until she could feel it brushing up against the fabric of her shirt with every breath.

"Don't you dare come," she warned both of them, sounding as breathless as she felt.

"Of course not, love," Draco murmured immediately, hitching his hips up against hers.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Blaise added, his fingers _finally_ sliding between her legs to tease at her clit through her knickers.

"Don't you dare stop, either," Ginny muttered, clutching Blaise's hip as she rocked between them.

"Thought never crossed our minds," Draco said, squeezing her breast in the same moment he bit down on her neck.

Blaise grinned when Ginny's orgasm came upon her as he rubbed against her clit firmer. He let her replace his hand with his leg, writhing against him for much-needed and desperate friction.

"Fuck," Ginny breathed, her body still sandwiched between her lovers and their hands and mouths still continuing their ministrations.

"You honestly think that's the end of it?" Draco murmured, moving his hand to Ginny's other breast.

"Huh?"

"You've denied us our orgasms, Gin. It's only fair that we give them _all_ to you instead," Blaise said, sounding practical and not at all perturbed by Ginny's heated cursing.

"You _bastards_. I _know_ you can come five times _each!_ "

"Ten orgasms doesn't sound bad, doesn't it, love?" Draco asked, smirking against her neck.

"Fuck."

"One down, nine to go," Blaise quipped mischievously, slipping down under the blanket.

...

End of the fortieth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	41. Chapter 41

Ginny woke up with her alarm, seriously wishing that she hadn't. Her throat ached and her body felt like it was _still_ coiled tightly and demanding release.

"Morning, Gin," Blaise said, grinning at her like the bloody Kneazle who ate the Snidget.

"Sod off."

"Oh, don't be like that. We were good, weren't we?" Blaise murmured, pressing a few biting kisses to her fingertips.

Unfortunately, they had been _extremely_ good. Neither Draco nor Blaise had orgasmed once, though by the sixth orgasm came around, Ginny was seriously considering letting them. Ginevra had taken over for the last four orgasms, more than willing to play the game than Ginny's exhausted mind had been at that point. She'd teased Draco and Blaise relentlessly, both of them aching and hard and coming _this_ close to begging for more. Then their pride - their silly, stupid, Slytherin pride - had kicked in and they'd returned to teasing her with even more vigour than before.

It was any wonder that Ginny hadn't magically turned herself into the physical embodiment of an orgasm by the end of it. She'd had her tenth (and eleventh and twelfth) orgasms at some ridiculous gods-awful time of the morning and then managed to put a barrier up between the three of them so she could get some gods' damned sleep. Ginny was almost positive that she'd had another orgasm in her bloody sleep.

"If either of you touch me in the next hour, I'm hexing _both_ of you. Three bloody hours of sleep," Ginny groaned, crawling out of bed reluctantly.

Behind her, Blaise snorted. "I'll get the house elves to make a pot of coffee."

"Make it a large one," she said over her shoulder, wincing as she stripped off her clothes.

A shower helped marginally, and Ginny arrived in the dining room - still Gryffindor red with golden lightning bolts, no matter how many apologies Blaise offered - to find breakfast served. Draco was looking far too smug with himself, his legs slung over Blaise's lap as he ate grapes in a lazy manner.

"Nope. I'm going to work early," Ginny muttered.

She transfigured her coffee mug into a travel mug and Apparated before Draco or Blaise could say or do anything to convince her to stay with them for the rest of the day. Honestly, Ginny didn't think it would take much convincing.

...

"Keep your schedule open, Ginevra. It looks like you'll be going overseas sooner than I'd planned," Pansy said, sighing. "I had hoped it would be resolved, but unfortunately, the situation's only getting worse."

"Any chance you'll tell me what the situation actually is?" Ginny asked.

"Not yet, not until it's necessary. You... You have to know that I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't have a damn good reason."

"I know, Pans. You never do anything without a good reason behind it. Even if it doesn't feel that way on the receiving end," Ginny added with a wry grin.

"Noted. Now, are you all right? To be frank, you look like shit, Ginevra," Pansy said, sounding worried.

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Ginny admitted.

"Right. Feel free to take an early mark and get some sleep."

"I might take you up on that. Oh, I have a quick question: is Luna... part of all this?"

"She's retired. That doesn't mean she's not a good listener," Pansy added meaningfully.

Ginny frowned. "Did you send her to my office the other day?"

"Would I do that?"

"That's not an answer, Pansy."

Pansy just smirked and ended the fire call.

"Bloody witch," Ginny muttered.

...

At Ron's invitation, Harry was at the next Burrow lunch and he brought Cho along. She was starting to show with her pregnancy and Molly was already fussing about jumpers and various spells to help with cleaning when they had a baby underfoot.

"Of course, I've taught Ginny all of these spells, but it seems she won't be needing them now that you're no longer together, Harry," Molly said pointedly.

Harry and Cho both went bright red. Bill snorted a laugh, Fleur hitting his leg discreetly, while Charlie just laughed outright. Beside them, Hermione's eyes widened and Percy's jaw dropped.

Ron spluttered on his drink. "Mum!"

Molly sniffed briefly. "I just thought... Well, never mind, it's obvious my baby's not good enough for Harry. She's happier without him anyway."

"I'm... uh, glad to hear Ginny's happy. Is she - I mean, will she be here today?" Harry asked, sounding as awkward as he felt.

"She and George should be along shortly," Molly said, looking to the family clock. "Ah, there they are," she said, nodding as the spoons moved to 'home' and two loud Apparation bangs sounded.

"Mum, we're home! Hey, where is everyone?" George called, looking in the kitchen and outside. "Oh there you... Oh. Harry's here! _And_ Cho, wow, that's unexpected."

Ginny groaned softly behind him, knocking her forehead between his shoulder blades. "I should've stayed home," she muttered lowly.

George held back a laugh, grinning broadly at the visitors. "If I'd known you two were going to be here, I would've invited Neville and Dennis. Oh, and Luna, and why not Oliver and Katie while we're at it? We could have a Quidditch match. I don't think it'd be a good idea to give Dennis a Beater position though. And you'd have to duel for the Seeker position, of course. Hmm, maybe it's a good idea its just you two then. Well, three. Or is it four? How many babies are you having, Cho?" he asked, still blocking Ginny in the doorway.

"Oh. Just the one," she replied. "Harry wants a large family though, so who knows in the end."

"Of course he does. Inspired by our family, weren't you, Harry?" George asked jovially.

"Uh, yeah. Kind of," he said, still a light shade of red.

"That's nice to hear. George, stop blocking the door before your sister hexes you," Molly said.

"She wouldn't do that; I'm her favourite brother!" George said, sounding aghast.

"Yeah right, Georgie. Everyone knows I'm Ginny's favourite," Bill said, grinning.

"That's what you think," Charlie said.

"You're all wrong," Percy said with a smile.

"What are you all going on about?" Ron asked, looking between his brothers in confusion.

"Ah, Ron, you're still as dense as a cast-iron cauldron. C'mon, Gin dearest, let's go find out where Father is," George said, turning and guiding his sister outside.

"He's in the shed," Molly called after them. "Now, are you expecting a girl or boy, Cho?"

Charlie excused himself, following Ginny and George outside to their father's workshop. It was one of three sheds they had around the Burrow: one was specifically for their brooms, the second had been built for the twins' experiments and had fallen into disrepair after their shop opened, and the third held their father's cars and various Muggle paraphernalia. It didn't look big enough to hold everything from the outside, but then, their old Ford hadn't looked big enough to hold their entire family either.

"Mother defended you, you know," Charlie said to Ginny as George talked to their father, who was underneath a hovering car.

"Do I dare ask?"

Charlie grinned and put an arm around Ginny's shoulders. "She basically told Harry he was an arse for dumping you. Of course, it was more related to the fact that he didn't knock you up, but she did try. Ron was scandalised."

Ginny laughed. "Of course she did. I'm very damn glad he didn't knock me up, thank you. Could you imagine being the mother of the son of the Boy Who Lived? The press are bad enough already."

"You work for _The Quibbler_ , Gin," Charlie pointed out.

"That's different; I don't go hounding after people to get articles."

"I don't know, that article you wrote about Malfoy and Zabini - "

"Was corrected and I haven't done it since."

"Of course you haven't. You know, if you do want a story, there's a clutch of dragons due soon. You could come up, get your story, and get some R&R while you're at it."

"Hmm, maybe that'd be good. Can I name one of the dragons?"

"After you named Pigwidgeon, I think you're officially banned from naming _anything_ ever again, Gin."

"Love you too, Charlie."

"Hear that, Georgie? Gin loves me more!" Charlie said, grinning.

"Those are duelling words, Charlie," George said, handing his father a wrench.

"Boys, Ginny! Lunch is served!" Molly called.

"The duel's been postponed," George called over his shoulder, already out of the shed and heading towards the Burrow.

"Scaredy-Kneazle!" Charlie called, running after him.

Arthur stood up from under the car and slowly let it return to the ground, putting his wand in his pocket as he wiped his greasy hands on a cloth. He looked at his daughter for a moment. "Are you all right, Ginny? If Harry or Cho being here makes you uncomfortable, I'm sure your mother would be subtle in getting them to leave."

"I'm fine, Dad. It doesn't bother me that Harry's here, or Cho for that matter. I just..." she sighed, running a hand over her face. "Some warning would've been nice."

"You're not the only one that feels that way," Arthur said with a chuckle. "Ron didn't tell your mother, so she's frantic that she won't have enough food for everyone."

"If there's anything I'm certain of, it's that there will be enough food for everyone," Ginny said, laughing and letting her father lead her back to the Burrow.

Lunch was awkward for the most part. Everyone tried to ignore the awkwardness but it was obvious the tension was there.

"So how's work going, Ginny?" Molly asked.

"Good, I'm enjoying it. Luna's thinking of sending me overseas for a story."

"What?" George asked, sharp and surprised.

"I don't have many details, but I've been told to keep my schedule open," Ginny replied, trying unsuccessfully to gauge George's feelings from his shuttered expression.

"That's very vague, dear. I hope you'll be safe," Molly said.

"Always, Mother."

_Liar_ , Ginevra said with a cackle.

"Why would Luna send you instead of a more experienced journalist?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, Harry, you can't expect Ginny to get experience without actually experiencing something, can you?" Hermione interjected. "Pass the potatoes, please."

"Right, of course," Harry said, flushing red.

Cho passed the potatoes down to Hermione. "The food is lovely, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, thank you, dear. Do you have enough?"

"More than enough, thank you."

"Here, you'd best have some more vegetables," Molly said, scooping several spoonfuls onto Cho's plate.

Cho thanked her quietly, but she looked somewhat overwhelmed at the amount of food on her plate. Ginny kicked George across the table, nodding towards Cho's plate. He blinked, obviously caught up in his thoughts - fiercely guarded, despite everything - and grinned a little when he saw what their mother had done.

"I say, Mother. How much of the scraps actually go to the owls or the ghoul? Have you been neglecting the garden with all of this over-feeding?" George asked. "Or are you just going to throw everything out if we don't finish?"

"You know that the leftovers never get wasted, George," Molly said, sounding surprised at his question.

Beside George, Cho seemed very interested in Molly's answer and quietly relieved that she wouldn't have to force herself to eat everything after all. "What do you do with the leftovers, Mrs. Weasley?" she asked quickly.

"The food on people's plates gets turned into mini pies. I put their initials on the pie crust so I know which pie belongs to each person, of course."

"The gravy ones are best," Bill said.

"Chicken pot pie," Charlie argued. "Or the potato one. Mum does one with garlic and cheese, it's wicked."

"I don't think I've tried that one yet. May I have that next, Mother?" Percy asked.

Molly seemed both surprised and pleased at their comments over her humble little pies. "Of course you may, dear. I'm happy to make anyone's favourites."

"I don't think I've ever had a leftovers pie," Ron said, frowning.

"You've got to have leftovers to have a leftovers pie, Ronnie-kins," George said, laughing.

Ron pulled a face at George and determinedly bit into another leg of chicken.

"I don't think I could eat another bite, Mrs. Weasley. I'm happy to leave this for a pie," Cho added, curious now that there'd been so much talk about the pies.

"Oh, of course. Just leave it be, I'll make sure you all have your leftover pies before you leave," Molly said with a smile across the table.

With a look of gratitude, Fleur sighed and put her cutlery down as well.

"Right, who's up for dessert?" George asked.

"Leave off, George, we've barely finished lunch," Charlie muttered.

"What did you make for dessert, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked curiously, his plate clean.

Molly looked torn between piling more food onto his plate and serving dessert. _Maybe she could add extra cream to his plate instead_ , she mused.

"Pumpkin pie."

"Sounds lovely."

"You missed treacle tart last time, Harry. It was amazing," Charlie said, grinning.

There was a moment of awkward silence as they remembered why Harry wasn't at the last dinner, and again, both Harry and Cho reddened.

"Let's see this lovely pumpkin pie of yours, dear. I can't wait for it, myself," Arthur said. "Extra cream, I hope?"

"You heard the doctor, Arthur; you're lucky you're getting pie at all."

"Are you all right, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione asked.

"Fine, fine. Nothing that a holiday wouldn't cure," he added with a grin.

"How long's it been since the last holiday?" Bill asked.

"Egypt, I would think," Percy said.

"It doesn't really count if they won it, does it?" Bill pointed out.

"'Course it does; a holiday's a holiday no matter if you pay for it or win it," Charlie argued.

"Going back to Egypt would be fun," George said, grinning.

"No, it bloody well wouldn't. You'd probably try to lock me in a tomb again. Bloody spiders," Ron said, scowling at his plate.

"I'm sure your brother's matured enough that he wouldn't lock you in a tomb again," Hermione said consolingly, patting Ron on the hand.

"Think again, Hermione," George said with a laugh.

As everyone argued over holiday destinations, Ginny looked to her father. He was looking far more tired than she remembered. Even after the snake, he hadn't quite looked this _old_.

"Sure you're all right?" she asked him quietly.

"Fine, dearest," Arthur replied, smiling and turning his attention to his wife as she entered with the pumpkin pie, and a jug of whipped cream floating above the pie. "Ah, what a fine dessert!"

...

Amelie was nearing her one year anniversary at Avenir. In the previous three months since her first foray into Avenir's real work area she had come to realise many things, about herself, her work, and more importantly, Jacques.

In herself, Amelie discovered that her power was stronger than even she had initially realised. Etienne had sent for her more and more often, claiming _this_ or _that_ test and taking her past people who looked worse than the first Muggle-born had. The tests, Ginevra thought, weren't about her power, but rather, what she would say or do when faced with these people.

She had two straight weeks of tests, tests, and _merde_ , more tests, until she could walk into a metre by metre cell full of moaning and broken people without batting an eye. Thanks to the actual spell tests Etienne had her perform, Amelie also found that she could hone her power more than she ever had before. When she was home alone, Amelie trained and tested herself, doing spells without her wand, without a thought, always striving to improve herself, to better herself. By the end of these three months, she could do wandless spells that not even Ginevra had been able to master.

With her tests complete, both spells and otherwise, Etienne called for her at odd times during the day to perform spells that, on the surface, didn't even make sense: healing spells, listening spells, spells for cleaning, spells for for mending. They were all innocent enough spells on their own, if not for the fact that she was healing people, and putting listening spells in their cells, and cleaning the blood, piss, and other disgusting things they left behind when Etienne and Jacques had broken or killed them, and spells to mend their bodies and limbs and minds.

In Jacques, she found him devoted and distant, cold and caring, an enigma and an annoyance all at once. He focused so much of himself in his work that there was hardly anything left for himself, let alone her. When they were at work in the back office together, she could see his brilliance, his passion, all of it focused determinedly on the task at hand. When they were home alone, Jacques was often exhausted and if he wasn't, then Amelie knew that his mind was still on his work. It was hard to love him, but then, it wasn't hard at all.

"Faites-vous quelque chose pour votre anniversaire?" Odette asked at lunch, Amelie's anniversary steadily approaching in the next week. (Are you doing anything for your anniversary?)

"Non. Peut-être un gâteau?" Amelie suggested weakly when Odette seemed disappointed. (No. Maybe a cake?)

"Oui, un gâteau. Ballons, serpentins. Une fête!" Odette said, looking so proud of her idea that Amelie couldn't bring herself to say no. (Yes, a cake. Balloons, streamers. A party!)

Marcel stopped by their lunch table so abruptly that they both turned to look at him. He grinned down at them, eyes bright and eager. "Ai-je entendu parler d'une fête?" (Did I hear you mention a party?)

"Oui. Pour l'anniversaire d'Amélie," Odette replied. (Yes. For Amelie's anniversary.)

"Oh, dites-moi plus," Marcel said, sliding onto the bench next to Odette and putting an arm around her shoulders.

She glared at him and shoved his arm off. "Si vous ne vous comportez pas, vous ne serez pas invité." (If you won't behave, you won't be invited.)

Marcel put his hands up in a gesture of peace, and then put them on the table in clear sight. "Là. Content?" he asked, grinning. (There. Happy?)

"Oui. Gardez-les là," Odette said, obviously not trusting him in the slightest. (Yes. Keep them there.)

Amelie startled when she heard her name. She looked over to where Etienne was standing in the courtyard doorway, waving to her. She looked at her lunch and her friends with a sigh. "Je dois y aller. La fête peut-elle être une surprise?" Amelie suggested when Odette and Marcel both looked upset at her sudden need to leave. (I have to go. Can the party be a surprise?)

"Oui. Ce sera la meilleure fête surprise jamais!" Marcel exclaimed with a broad grin.

"Imbécile," Odette muttered, rolling her eyes, but she smiled at Amelie and waved her off as Etienne called for her again.

"Oui. J'arrive. Ce n'est pas la vie ou la mort, n'est-ce pas?" Amelie asked, somewhat irritable since she'd have to forgo the rest of her lunch.

"Oui, ça l'est," Etienne muttered fiercely, grabbing her by the arm and practically hauling her through to the back areas. "Votre copain idiot s'est presque tué en essayant ce sort sans moi!" (Yes, it is. Your idiot boyfriend almost killed himself attempting this spell without me!)

"Quelle?! Il va bien?" she asked, almost dragging Etienne this time as she hurried through the work areas to the back shelving. (What?! Is he all right?)

"Si vous pouvez le sauver, alors oui," Etienne said, not bothering to wait for Amelie to turn around before tapping the sequence on the shelves. (If you can save him, then yes.)

Her heart pounded in her chest at the thought of Jacques hurt and in pain. She hoped her power and spells would be enough to save him; both Etienne and Jacques had made it clear that they could not go to _Hôpital St. Bernadette pour blessures magiques_ , as there would be too many questions that they could not answer. (St. Bernadette's Hospital for Magical Injuries.)

Ginevra's heart beat loudly for a very different reason when Etienne didn't make her turn around as he had every single time for the past three months. She committed the sequence to memory: beaker, round-bottom flask, book of magical properties of herbs, beaker twice, spin larger round-bottom flask halfway.

The shelves shimmered and disappeared, and low painful groans could be heard. Amelie didn't bother waiting and rushed in, trying not to focus on the blood she could smell. Jacques was lying on the floor, covered in wounds. Across from him was the first man Amelie had seen in this area - the Muggle-born. She realised a second later that he was dead, no light or life in his eyes, and his body covered in welts and bruises and more blood than skin. For all that Etienne had her do in regards to her spells, neither he nor Jacques had let her see any of their subjects dead before.

Amelie forced herself to turn away and focus on Jacques instead.

Behind her, Etienne started muttering under his breath, his words increasing in volume as he paced back and forth. "Imbécile! Essayer un sort comme ça sans quelqu'un ici avec vous. Regardez ce que vous avez fait! Non seulement pour vous-même, mais aussi pour le demi-sang! Nous étions si près de trouver la réponse et vous avez tué notre dernière avance!" (Imbecile! Trying a spell like this without someone here with you. Look what you've done! Not only to yourself, but to the half-blood as well! We were so close to finding out the answer and you've killed our last lead!)

Ginevra listened closely as Amelie healed Jacques. She sutured the wounds, mended the broken skin, and cleaned the blood from his body. It was easier to destroy his work robe rather than try to peel it away, it was so sticky and stained red.

"Je suis désolé, belle," Jacques said, his breath laboured. He smiled and reached up to cup her face, smearing blood on her cheek.

"Non, vous allez bien," she said wetly, her voice thick with tears. (No. You will be fine.)

Jacques' eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed against the stone floor, his hand falling to his side.

"Etienne!" Amelie called, voice almost at a scream.

"Est-il mort?" Etienne asked, face pale and haggard.

"Pas encore. Je ... Il a besoin de St. Bernadette. Je dois faire quelque chose, mais vous devez me faire confiance." (Not yet. I... He needs St. Bernadette's. I must do something, but you must trust me.)

"Oui," he replied, the word almost a whisper.

Amelie's hand trembled slightly as she lifted her wand and pointed it down at Jacques. " _Exploser briser_ ," she said, the spell erupting from her wand with far more force than her voice.

Jacques' body gained more cuts and wounds than it had before they had arrived, his body arching off the stone floor entirely as his skin tore and shredded in places. Amelie stopped the spell before it could complete, then grabbed both Etienne's hand and Jacques' and Disapparated to St. Bernadette's Hospital.

The first healer they met with fainted clean, his body crumpling to the ground. The next healer paled, but she immediately rushed Jacques through to the emergency theatre, her voice amplified to call others to help.

"Potion éclatante," Amelie said when the healer questioned her. ( _Exploding Potion_.)

The healer nodded, not at all suspicious. Then, with a firm wand motion, Amelie and Etienne were barricaded outside of the door as other healers streamed into the room around them.

Etienne led Amelie away, surprisingly gentle and kind about it. Realising that she was trembling, Amelie allowed herself to be led away. They sat in the waiting area, silent and lost in their own thoughts. In her pocket, Amelie clutched her Grand-pére's pocket watch and hoped that Jacques would be all right. In her sleeve, Ginevra clutched her wand and sincerely hoped that he would die.

...

End of the forty-first chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	42. Chapter 42

"I know something's wrong, Gin, so if you tell me, I can try to help," Draco said, sounding annoyed, frustrated, and worried all at once.

Blaise was usually so much better at this sort of thing, but he had business to attend to and so Draco was trying to wheedle information out of Ginny without much success. They were training with swords to help with her frustration, and Draco was regretting his decision not to just shag her silly instead.

"I'm fine," Ginny snapped, then sighed heavily and lowered her sword. "Sorry. I... It's just Father; he's going through another inquisition at work and he says he's all right, but I know he's worried about this one. The Ministry usually leave him alone for a while after an inquisition, but this is his fourth this year, and Ministry employees can only have five per year. He's honestly keeping within the law, and hasn't even tried enchanting Muggle items for three years now, but they just won't let up on him. I think his new supervisor's jealous that he's a Weasley and knows the famous Harry Potter," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"What's their name? Your father's supervisor?" Draco asked.

"You're not going to hurt him? Or maim him?"

"Would I do something like that?" he asked, sounding scandalised, then his indignant expression fell when Ginny just raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, all right, how about I just set Mother on him instead?"

"I'm not sure that's any better," Ginny murmured, not quite under her breath, and Draco just grinned in response.

"I completely agree with you there, love. Don't worry, I think of something else instead. Now, what is the poor unfortunate soul's name?"

"Digby Abbington."

"Ugh, that is unfortunate."

"Draco Scorpius is better?" Ginny asked.

"My name indicates class and distinction; Digby Abbington sounds _wet_ and _flat_ ," Draco said, grimacing.

"If you say so," Ginny replied, then grinned and lifted her sword once more.

...

Amelie couldn't sit still. Etienne had fallen asleep an hour ago, but she was full of a restless energy that pushed any thought of sleep to a far and distant place in her mind. She paced, much to the annoyance of the others in the hospital, but she barely noticed, too concerned with her own emotions to notice others' emotions.

_What if Jacques died? What would she do? How would she cope with Jacques' death?_

_More importantly_ , Ginevra thought, _would Etienne keep using her skills and power in the back rooms of Avenir? What if Etienne was still only using her because of Jacques' influence? If she lost the only reason for her being in the back area, then the last nine months of dating Jacques would have been for_ ** _nothing_** _._ She finally stopped pacing, feeling sick.

It felt as though only seconds had passed by the time she sat down and when a healer came out, looking for her and Etienne.

"Amelie? Jacques est réveillé. Il vous demande," the healer said. (Jacques is awake. He is asking for you.)

Amelie felt relieved.

Ginevra felt disappointed.

Amelie woke Etienne and told him the good news, then she followed the healer through the hospital to Jacques' room. He looked pale, white scars littering his skin and a few pink and still healing, but he was awake. Amelie felt tears spring to her eyes and she rushed to his side.

"Jacques! Est-ce que tu vas bien?" she asked, reaching out to touch his hand, but pulling back at the last moment, not sure how much pain he was in. (Are you all right?)

Jacques smiled at her, a little dopily through the various potions and charms he'd been given to lessen his pain. "Belle. Tu m'as sauvé," he murmured, reaching up to cup her cheek. (You saved me.)

"Oui. Bien sûr," she whispered, voice thick with tears. (Of course.)

Jacques blinked, slow and languid, and brushed his thumb against her cheek, smearing her tears along her skin. "Je te dois une dette de vie." (I owe you a life debt.)

Amelie tried not to laugh, feeling hysterical and overwhelmed, and she turned her head to kiss his palm. "Dormir maintenant." (Sleep now.)

"Ou regretter demain," Jacques added seriously, then nodded for the healer to put a sleeping charm on him, his hand falling away from Amelie's cheek limply. (Or regret tomorrow.)

"Voulez-vous rester?" the healer offered. (Would you like to stay?)

Amelie nodded immediately, brushing her tears away on her sleeve. She settled into the chair beside Jacques' bed and finally closed her eyes to sleep.

...

Draco's guise was good enough to fool his own mother - he knew it for a fact since he'd walked straight past her without her noticing - so he knew that it wouldn't be difficult to fool any Ministry officials as well. While he didn't mind threatening someone as a Malfoy, it would be very odd for a Malfoy to be threatening someone over a Weasley, even though the blood feud had been dissolved soon after the war ended.

Draco walked into the Ministry, ignoring the other witches and wizards around him. He knew exactly where he needed to go; working in the Ministry for three months afforded him a better understanding of the many levels and departments than the ordinary wizard or witch. Even those working in the Ministry now could still get lost, usually focused only on getting to their own department and holing up until they were forced to go elsewhere. Draco and Blaise had had their probation in the Ministry, but they'd forced themselves to do something other than just gather menial gossip for Pansy. They charmed their way through departments and Ministry officials (and, more likely, their assistants who actually did the work) to gather actual information that could be used. Blaise was better with people, so while he was distracting the witch or wizard (sometimes, both) in question, Draco used the distraction to look at their parchments and scrolls. It was amazing how enthralling Blaise could be, getting a person's focus until their whole world was filled with only him and there was nothing else, not even the top secret and classified scrolls right next to their elbow. Of course, Draco could be just as enthralled by his lover as any other ordinary witch or wizard, and he couldn't fault them for their distraction.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was on the fifth level of the Ministry, but the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office was located somewhere between the fifth and sixth level, a fact that confounded most people who didn't realise that the Ministry liked to hide the offices and departments they weren't particularly proud of. If an office or department wasn't considered worthy of showing to visiting dignitaries or other countries' Ministry employees, it was usually hidden between two levels and no one pointed out the doors between levels.

After the war, Arthur had relinquished his title as Head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects and returned to be the head for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office instead. George and Fred had helped their father detect objects during the war, mostly because they knew how to make them themselves and knew what to look for. As a product of their time at _Wheezes_ , the twins had spent hours teaching their father about defensive spells, more than he'd ever known with the Order, and how to actually find objects that weren't just Muggle items disguised.

After Fred's death, Arthur couldn't bring himself to return to that job or office, reminded far too forcefully of the son he'd lost and he spent two whole weeks without working, staring vacantly into the distance where no one could bring him back, not even his beloved wife or children. They had all allowed him the time to grieve, grieving in their own ways as well. Shacklebolt had been understanding, but even though the war was over, the ODCCDSPO had needed someone to lead them sooner rather than later as there were still plenty of objects that were hiding runaway Death Eaters and their supporters. Arthur had bowed out from the Head of ODCCDSPO position with little fuss, and returned to his previous job in an office barely the size of two broom closets and with one person under him instead of twelve. Perkins seemed relieved to have him back, and Arthur had felt grateful, even as he rolled up his sleeves to deal with the invasion of rubber chickens.

The office had expanded since then, as the Weasleys were friends with Harry Potter, so the office was now the size of four broom closets, and while the positioning between levels was still there, they had been relocated between the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Department of Magical Transportation on the sixth level, where the Portkey Office was. The two Offices' collaboration was required due to innocent Muggle objects being turned into Portkeys; as such, Arthur and Perkins had the important task of determining which objects wouldn't be touched by Muggles accidentally.

"Digby Abbington, please," Draco said with a charming smile to the wizard at the front desk.

"Do you have an appointment with Department Head Abbington?" the wizard asked, unaffected by his smile.

Draco realised his mistake in using a disguise: he didn't have the command of the Malfoy surname to get into places without question. **_Shit_**. Draco suddenly wished he'd brought Blaise along with him.

"Ah, there you are, dear," a voice said behind Draco.

He didn't turn around, not thinking that the witch was referring to him, but then he felt three distinct taps on his shoulder blade as the witch approached and he knew that Blaise had followed him. Draco wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Instead, he turned and smiled at the unassuming brunette witch with Blaise's eyes. Blaise's disguise would be as forgettable as his own, especially with a small spell or two involved.

"Sorry for rushing ahead, dear. I wanted to be on time for our appointment with Digby Abbington," Draco explained.

Blaise knew that Abbington was the Head for Arthur Weasley's department and his eyes narrowed slightly at the explanation. "You shouldn't have left me with your mother," he replied with a half-hearted glare.

 _His mother must have recognised his disguise after all. Bloody hell_.

"My apologies, dear."

A clock chimed loudly, and Blaise turned to the wizard capturing his attention just as he always did. "We mustn't be late. We have a very important meeting with Mr. Abbington."

With the wizard distracted by Blaise, Draco looked over the desk, reading the parchment for Abbington's appointments for the day.

"We're from the Minister's office," Draco said when there was a lull in the conversation a moment later.

The wizard blinked, as though the world had just refocused around him, and he looked to the booking parchment. "Your appointment isn't until this afternoon."

"Yes, we are aware of that. Do you think we would be here early if it wasn't important?" Draco snapped.

The wizard took a moment to consider this and finally nodded, not wanting to risk his job if it really was that important. He flicked his wand, the door opening behind him.

"Thank you," Blaise said sweetly, heading into the office without any hesitation.

Draco followed him quickly, erecting a sound barrier with hardly a thought.

"Who are you?! I thought I said I wasn't to be disturbed?" Abbington said, his voice nasal and grating.

The door closed behind them without Abbington's assistant knowing a thing was wrong.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Abbington asked, his voice rising.

Blaise and Draco didn't respond and in half a second, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was tied to his chair and gagged. Unfortunately, the gag would be temporary.

"I think we should ask that of you, Abbington. Why is the Minister of Magic wasting time visiting you?" Draco asked.

"Department Head Abbington," the wizard sniffed, drawing himself up the best he could while he was tied in his chair.

"You... you gave yourself your own title?" Blaise asked, blinking.

"It's an official title!"

"Of course it is," Blaise said in the most unbelieving tone that Draco almost laughed aloud.

"I'll ask for a second time, Abbington, but I won't ask for a third, do you understand?" Draco said, voice serious as he tightened the binds around the wizard. "Why is the Minister of Magic personally visiting _you?_ "

Abbington glared, still not realising just how much danger he was in. "Minister Funke is a friend."

Now it was Blaise's turn to almost burst out laughing; Minister Funke was known for being a friend only to himself, only doing what he deemed to be necessary and useful for himself or people who could get him re-elected, not what was actually necessary and useful for the wizarding world as a whole. For Merlin's sakes, the man hadn't even visited the Muggle Prime Minister yet, a tradition usually done in the first two weeks of a Minister's term, and Funke was in his _third year_ as Minister.

"Oh, of course he is, and as you're his friend, has he asked anything of you in particular?" Draco asked, using Legilimency on the Department Head to slip into the man's memories and thoughts. It was far too easy that Draco was embarrassed for Abbington.

_"I need something from you, Abbington," the Minister said over lunch._

_Abbington brightened up at the fact the Minister had finally addressed him by the correct name. "Of course, Minister, sir."_

_"A new world order must be established; far too much attention is being given to Harry Potter and his friends, and things that would have ended in a gaol sentence before the war have hardly resulted in a fine or even community service. The goblins are among the few who are not pleased with this inaction, especially after the debacle at Gringotts, and they are paying a handsome amount to get... uh, how shall I put this?" the Minister gave a slight cough, sipped at his drink, and then continued bluntly, "They want revenge, pure and simple. Now, as Minister, it's not within my power to get this for them, but you can make things difficult for them."_

_"Harry Potter? I... I have no power over the Aurors, sir," Abbington said, wondering if the Minister had forgotten which department he actually worked for._

_"Oh, I know that; I'm dealing with the Aurors, as well as... other areas. But you have control over the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, which is where one of the Weasleys' work, isn't it?"_

_"Oh, yes, of course, sir. Are you... are you sure this is best solution, though?" Abbington asked, worried that Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World would find out about this;_ he was an Auror, after all, and surely Harry Potter would notice something going on with the Weasley family? _"The goblins fixed Gringotts within a month," he added, seeing the Minister's face cloud over._

_"Yes, but they've lost some very important clientele since then. If I lose the goblins' vote, I will not be re-elected at the end of my term. I don't want that to happen, do you, Abbington?"_

_"Oh. Of course not, sir. You are a wonderful Minister of Magic, the best since... since, uh," he trailed off awkwardly._

_"Never mind the false compliments, Abbington. Just make sure you do this for me, would you? I need Weasley gone by the end of April."_

_"Yes, sir, Minister sir," Abbington said, thinking about how he could subtly sabotage Arthur Weasley without being implicated himself._

Draco left Abbington's memory after a moment longer, ensuring that nothing else of importance was mentioned. He sighed and shook his head. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but we have to stop the Minister from sabotaging Potter, the Weasleys, and probably even Granger."

"What did you do? How could you know that? You... you did something to me!" Abbington screeched, his nasal voice even higher.

"Oh, bloody hell. Shut up," Draco said, flicking his wand at the wizard.

Abbington's snores filled the room a moment later, his chin resting on his chest. Somehow, that noise was even worse.

"Dray, what's going on?" Blaise asked.

"Gin's worried about her father, so I wanted to fix it. Instead, I've found out that the Minister is actively trying to destroy Potter, the Weasleys, and Granger because they didn't get into trouble after the war. The goblins are still pissed about Gringotts since they lost clients. Abbington's been planting enchanted Muggle items on Arthur Weasley and reporting him to his own department; he has his magical signature on file," Draco added.

Blaise was silent for a moment, looking at the nasal thin man and then over to Draco. "You're doing this for Gin?"

"'Course I am; I just said that she's worried, didn't I?"

Blaise raised up on his toes to kiss Draco's taller form. "You're wonderful, love."

"Thanks?" Draco said, a little confused at the compliment, but not confused enough to not kiss Blaise in return. It was different with their disguises, but at the same time, it was exactly the same their kisses always were: loving and consuming and passionate.

Blaise pulled away after a long moment. "Come on, we've got goblins to deal with and a Minister to threaten."

"Can we invite Pansy? The Minister's trying to reduce Cloffice's funding and she's been pissed since he was elected."

Blaise grinned and nodded. "Of course; it wouldn't be the same without her. Now, what are we going to do about dear Digby Abbington?"

Draco smirked a little cruelly. "Oh, I've got a few ideas."

...

_Auror Harry Potter discovers Department Head of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office is sabotaging his own staff! Abbington terminated from employment and sent home in disgrace._

_By Luna Lovegood_

_New Gringotts clients receive three months free on vault fees._

_Advertisement in_ The Quibbler, Daily Prophet, _and on the_ Wizarding Wireless Network

"Today's headline news: the Minister of Magic, Lewis Funke, has been unable to be found by his family, the Ministry's Aurors, or a team of Hufflepuffs - uh, sorry - I meant the team of Quidditch referee finders, of course!" Jeremiah Garnet reported on the Wizarding Wireless Network.

_Minister of Magic missing! Temporary Minister of Magic instated; Shacklebolt says: 'I'm back, witches!'_

_By Ginny Weasley_

...

"I'm late, I know. I'm so sorry. How much do you hate me?" Morrigan asked, wincing as she sat across from Ginny almost thirty minutes later than they'd agreed to meet.

"Don't worry, I was fifteen minutes late myself," Ginny said with a grin. "I was worried you were going to hate me."

"Not a chance! I probably would've ordered lunch and started eating before you got here though," Morrigan said with a laugh.

"Uh, yeah... About that," Ginny said with a slight cough as a waiter appeared with her food.

Morrigan just laughed heartily. "Go ahead and eat, it'll give me a chance to look at the menu."

The waited nodded, setting Ginny's dish down in front of her before leaving a moment later.

"That smells bloody good though, what did you order?" Morrigan asked, looking from Ginny's meal to the menu and trying to guess for herself.

"Chicken pot pie. I felt like something warm and covered in pastry."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Morrigan said with a grin. "I might go with the Guinness pie though, that sounds amazing." She called the waiter back and placed her order, waiting until he'd left before turning back to Ginny. "So, how's work at _The Quibbler_ going?"

"Not bad; I'm starting to get the hang of writing my own articles. Apparently my 'new style' is much more friendly than some of my previous articles."

"I've been reading them. Did Shacklebolt really say ' _I'm back, witches_ '?"

Ginny laughed and nodded. "Yeah, he did. Of course, being Shacklebolt, he made sure to get everyone's attention before he said it, and then he Apparated to his office to avoid further questions. It was hilarious, though it did make for a short article."

"That didn't stop Skeeter," Morrigan pointed out, recalling the full page article the journalist had written about Shacklebolt's return as Minister of Magic, and what it meant for the future of the wizarding world.

"Yeah, I saw that. I'd prefer to keep speculation out of it; it just encourages the wrong kind of rumours, and if it's wrong or misleading, then it'd come back to bite me on the arse," Ginny said, taking a mouthful of food.

Morrigan's food arrived a few minutes later, and she started eating gratefully, talking about her job as a potioneer for the Ministry. "Pansy gets to know about all of the potions before I pass the information on to my supervisor, of course."

"Of course. Anything I should know about?" Ginny asked, grinning.

"Is this on or off the record?" Morrigan asked with a teasing tone.

"Off, of course. Unless it's absolutely amazing and everyone should know about it right away," she replied, dramatically getting her Quick Notes Quill out with an over-the-top flourish.

Morrigan shook her head. "It's not that good, unfortunately. It's just a potion I'm modifying. The Calming Draught I was able to modify last month so the effects actually put the person to sleep after fifteen minutes; this month I've been working on the Polyjuice Potion. I've managed to get it extended from an hour to almost three hours, but there's the unfortunate side-effect of the person getting warts after an hour and a half."

"That does make things difficult," Ginny said with a nod.

"Yeah, the Potions Association would refuse it if I tried to submit it now. I don't think Pansy particularly wants them to get their hands on it anyway," Morrigan admitted, her voice low.

"What about the poultice for warts? Is there an ingredient in there that might work?" Ginny asked.

Morrigan thought about it, her eyebrows furrowing, and she scooped up the last of her pie. "Garlic might work, though I think a full clove might be overpowering.  Maybe aloe vera as well, though I think that would ruin the rest of the ingredients. Or onion? Hmm... I've got a few cauldrons going for testing, so I'll see what I can do. Thanks for the suggestion," Morrigan said with a bright smile.

"Only thank me if it works," Ginny said with a laugh. "Now, onto more important matters: how are things going with you and Jordan?"

Morrigan set her dish and cutlery aside, her cheeks pink. "Good. We've been discussing moving in together."

"Oh, that's great. His place or yours? Or somewhere new?"

"Somewhere new. I want to be closer to work's Apparation point, and Jordan's thinking of visiting his grandparents more often, so he wants to be closer to the International Apparation point as well."

"His grandparents in France?"

"Yeah. He's been keeping up his French by talking with them. I'm only keeping up so I can listen to him talk," Morrigan admitted, grinning.

Ginny laughed. "Hey, whatever works for you!"

A beeping noise went off in Morrigan's robes, and she pulled out an Alarm Quill, twisting the feather to stop the noise. She checked her pocket watch, just in case, then sighed. "I'm sorry, Ginny, but I've got to get back to work."

"I'd better get back as well. We should meet up again soon," Ginny said, putting some Knuts and a Sickle on the table to pay for her meal.

Morrigan did the same, the coins disappearing and their change appearing a moment later.

"I promise to be on time next time," Morrigan said with a grin.

"I'll definitely try to be as well. Meetings are worse than Dementors, I swear."

Morrigan nodded firmly in agreement. "Owl me when you're available next, and we'll organise something, okay?"

"Definitely," Ginny said, hugging Morrigan. "Let me know if you need help moving; I'm pretty handy with a Shrinking Charm."

"Thanks. Have a good afternoon," Morrigan said, waving before she Apparated back to her work's closest Apparation point.

Ginny Apparated back to _The Quibbler_ , wishing her work day was over already.

...

"What did you two do?" Ginny asked, looking between Draco and Blaise, who were sitting on the lounge room floor.

They seemed to be having a celebration of some kind, several empty bottles of Firewhisky, a few more still half-full, and at least one bottle of vodka completely empty strewn around them. Ginny hoped Draco hadn't been drinking the vodka, or he'd have one hell of a hangover in the morning.

"We helped," Draco said, blinking owlishly before turning to Blaise. "'M I drunk?" he asked.

"Yes, love. Am I drunk?" Blaise asked, hiccuping.

Draco frowned, crawled over the small space between them, and placed his hands on Blaise's cheeks. "You're... you're pretty," he said seriously.

Blaise smiled awkwardly between Draco's grip. "So're you," he slurred.

"How exactly did you help? And who did you help? Even without your names mentioned, the news has got your names all over it!" Ginny said, looking at the papers she'd brought with her.

Despite her reservations about what they might have done, Ginny couldn't help but feel grateful for what they'd done for her father; she'd had no idea that Abbington would actively _sabotage_ her father's work.

Draco finally let go of Blaise's face and turned to Ginny, slow and unsteady. He stood up and stepped to her, almost slipping over on a bottle. He straightened out before he fell completely, and Ginny decided it was safer to move to him instead. Draco smiled at her, warm and drunkenly, and then he put his hands on her cheeks. "We helped you, Gin love. Me 'n Blaise. N' Pansy. The Minister's an arse."

"Ex-Minister," Ginny said, Draco nodding in response and moving her head with his motion. "You really did it to help me?"

"'Course. Didn't want you upset anymore," Draco said, letting go of her to hug her, his head resting against her shoulder and his arms flung around her waist loosely.

"Draco tried to fix it on his own," Blaise said, sounding somewhere between proud and annoyed.

Draco just snored against Ginny's shoulder.

"I suppose that went as well as expected. Please don't tell me he's been in the vodka? I don't want him to throw up on my robes," Ginny muttered, slowly lowering Draco down on to the lounge.

"One shot glass. _Superhero_ can't handle vodka," Blaise snickered, his head falling back against the lounge as he squinted up at the ceiling. "Floor's crooked," he mumbled.

While Blaise was contemplating the ceiling, Ginny called for a house elf to take Draco upstairs so he could sleep and hopefully recover from his hangover. She didn't dare try to take him upstairs herself; the last time Draco had been Side Apparated while drunk had resulted in the destruction of three shoes and her favourite robe. The house elves could move him in a smoother transition that wouldn't upset his stomach or head further.

Ginny sat across from Blaise, wondering how long it would take for him to reach the same stage as Draco - asleep and snoring. "So, why're you drinking to oblivion if you did something good?"

Blaise tilted his head back down slowly until he was looking at her properly. "Pans... She got past his block. In his head," he added, going to tap his temple, missing and hitting his nose instead. "He's... He's bad."

"Bad how?" Ginny asked, reconsidering her assumption about them celebrating; _maybe they were trying to drink to forget instead?_

"Bad, bad. But France paid him a chest full of Galleons, so he didn't care. He, he _didn't care_ ," Blaise repeated, staring at Ginny without actually seeming to look at her.

"What did France pay him for?" Ginny asked, words slow and careful, trying to get an answer from Blaise before he truly did forget.

Blaise licked his lips, looking for his goblet or bottle. Finding a bottle, he lifted it and drank. When he'd drunk his fill, Blaise lowered the bottle and looked at Ginny again, blinking as if he hadn't realised she was sitting there. Then he seemed to remember she'd asked him a question. "He... he told them our names. All of us."

" _Merlin fucking toad kisser!_ "

Blaise let out a soft drunk giggle at Ginny's curse, but Ginny was too busy thinking of the ex-Minister's consequences to take much notice.

If the Minister had told France - hell, _anyone_ \- their names and callsigns, they were all completely screwed. It wasn't just her, Draco, and Blaise that were screwed, but all of the agents that were in the field, all of the ones who told them information or were associated with them, even the innocent ones who simply offered them safety and security.

If the Minister had given them high-security information - information only privy to the Director and Minister of Magic - then everyone who worked for the Centaur Liaison Office could be compromised. _Come morning, the Cloffice might even be disbanded completely._

 ** _Fuck_**. Ginny didn't even know if that thought was her own or Ginevra's, or perhaps both.

Blaise offered her his bottle, looking serious and, as Ginny looked at him closer, devastated.

"Minnie," Ginny called for the house elf. It appeared instantly, trembling and tugging at an ear. "Take our wands, and when we're so drunk we've blacked out, please clean us up as best as you can and take us to bed. Don't overdo it, okay?"

Minnie nodded reluctantly, but soon looked determined, taking Ginny's offered wand and scooping up Blaise and Draco's wands off the floor. Minnie disappeared a moment later, the empty bottles disappearing with her.

With that taken care of, Ginny reached across to take the bottle from Blaise so she could get completely and utterly drunk.

...

End of the forty-second chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	43. Chapter 43

Ginny groaned at the light that filled the room and slipped further down under the covers. Blaise was sprawled out beside her, and Draco had his legs entangled with hers, though the rest of his body didn't seem to be anywhere near hers. Ginny patted the bed where Draco should be, reaching out to see if he'd fallen off somehow, and promptly smacked him in the face.

"Oh, bloody hell! I'm up, _shit_ ," Draco groaned, untangling his legs and sitting up, gingerly touching his aching nose.

"Sorry, Dray," she mumbled, not moving from her warm and comfortable position.

"It's almost noon, would you three sods get up already? I don't have time to waste waiting for you to wake up."

"Five more minutes, Pansy," Blaise said, waving an arm tiredly.

"If I've got to be up, so do you," Draco groused, tugging at the blanket that was still covering his lovers instead of _him_.

"Pansy?" Ginny muttered, frowning and finally opening her eyes when she realised that _Pansy_ was in their bedroom. "What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, sitting up and looking at their friend, trying to keep herself steady as the room swam and spun around her.

Beside her, Blaise finally sat up as well, though he reached for the blanket, determined to keep sleeping.

"Good morning to you too. Hurry up and get downstairs already; the house elves are besides themselves with worry, thinking you've finally died of alcohol poisoning," Pansy said, throwing their wands to them. "They're also refusing to serve me breakfast without you three present, and after the last 24 hours, it's a dangerous thing to refuse," she added, Apparating downstairs.

Blaise didn't bother catching his wand, letting it hit his chest instead, and he pulled the blanket back up over his body.

" _Accio sobering potions_ ," Ginny muttered, flicking her wand. Nothing happened. She frowned, looking to the ensuite door where the potions were kept. It was only a few metres, but Ginny doubted her chances of making it there without falling. She felt queasy just from sitting up.

"That's my wand, love," Draco said, sounding amused as he took his wand from her to repeat the spell, the potions flying into the bedroom.

Ginny and Draco caught the potions, years of Quidditch training not dulled despite the amount of alcohol they'd drunk, and they both downed the potions. When Ginny felt a little steadier, she coaxed Blaise to sit up again and helped him drink a potion as well.

"Fuck," Blaise groaned as he sobered and woke up all too quickly. "I wanted to keep sleeping, Gin."

"I know. Did you miss the part where Pansy's here and probably going to throttle a house elf if she's not fed?" she asked, crawling over his body to get out of the bed. She headed to the ensuite, stripping out of her clothes along the way.

"No, I didn't miss it. I just figured she was coming to give us our pink envelopes personally," he muttered. "Besides, she wouldn't hurt the house elves."

"Come on, love. Let's convince Gin to let us join her in the shower," Draco said with a grin.

"Is sex all you ever think about?" Blaise groused, but he followed his lovers into the ensuite anyway.

...

Pansy didn't even raise an eyebrow when they arrived in the dining room, their hair wet, Ginny's cheeks flushed, and Draco looking far too smug. "Minnie," she called, the house elf appearing instantly. "They're alive and awake, if you'd care to serve breakfast now."

Minnie looked relieved at the sight of her Masters and Mistress and immediately disappeared, returning half a second later with several platters of food and other house elves with her.

"Thank you, Minnie," Ginny said as she sat down, taking some toast and pouring a cup of tea.

Blaise and Draco sat down as well, Blaise talking to a few of the elves about lunch and dinner for the rest of the week.

"Why're you here, Pansy? Blaise thinks you're here to give us our pink envelopes," Draco said, reaching across the table to grab sugar and lemon.

"I've got a new mission for the three of you."

"What?!" Ginny asked, surprised. She wasn't quite as pessimistic as Blaise, thinking they were all going to be fired, but she'd honestly thought that the Minister providing everyone's names to the French was probably a cause for going to ground and laying low, not taking on a new mission.

"Funke, as you might already know, told the names of Cloffice agents to the French. I needed to find out whose names and _who_ in France in particular, so I showed him the lower levels of Cloffice. He sang like a Fwooper," Pansy said, taking a calm bite of her crumpet.

On either side of Ginny, Blaise and Draco both shuddered.

"Did you do it personally or have others work on him?" Draco asked.

"I can do my own dirty work, thank you very much," Pansy said, glaring.

"We know that," Blaise replied quickly, reaching around Ginny to smack Draco.

"How aren't you freaking out? What about everyone in the field?" Ginny asked.

"When have you ever seen me _freak out?_ " Pansy asked pointedly. "I have arrangements in place for this sort of thing, and while I never expected betrayal on a scale this large, much less from the Minister of Magic himself, I'm not letting that distract me from what's actually important: the safety of my agents. There are benefits to paranoia, after all," she mused, sipping at her tea.

"So what's our mission then? Extraction?" Blaise asked, stealing a few mushrooms off Ginny's plate.

"Not if it can be helped. Thanks to Funke, we now have two informants in Prague who may not be safe. They don't have your kind of training, so I need you to go in and ensure that they haven't been compromised. If they have, extract them immediately. If they haven't, then put measures in place to ensure they will be safe in the future.

"I can't pull everyone out of the field, nor can I cover everyone who is remaining in the field," Pansy said, not looking at all happy about the fact. "But I can help those who need protection and aren't able to do it for themselves. The others have all been notified and warned, and I've organised other precautions or extractions where necessary. With luck, this will all blow over and we won't have any casualties."

"Since when do you rely on luck?" Ginny asked in surprise.

"I don't, which is why I have you three doing this for me, as well as several others who weren't pleased to be pulled out of retirement. How soon can you be ready to leave?"

"How long are we going for?" Ginny asked, thinking of her family.

"A fortnight, maximum. If you can't determine whether there's a threat in that time, then you're not ready for field work," Pansy added, raising her eyebrow at them.

Draco snorted. "I think we'll be fine."

"We can be ready in an hour," Blaise said, confirming with Ginny with a nod, and then called out for Minnie so he could cancel the meals he'd organised for the rest of the week.

"Can I use your fireplace?" Ginny asked Blaise once Minnie had disappeared.

"Of course, no need to ask," he said, nodding over to the fireplace with the Floo powder pot sitting beside it.

Ginny kissed his cheek and hurried over to it, Flooing to her apartment. "George?" she called, heading to her bedroom to start packing.

"In here," George called back from his own bedroom.

Ginny looked in and was surprised to see George packing a bag as well. "You've been called in too?"

"Yes, extraction somewhere secret for someone very important," George said vaguely, grinning. "You?"

"Protection, possible extraction. Somewhere secret for two important someones," she added with a brief grin.

" _Ooh la la_ ," George said, snorting. "I've already firecalled Mother that I'm going overseas for the shop. Lucky you warned her you might be leaving already," he added, flicking his wand to stop a bright orange shirt from joining his pack. "C'mon, a bit more subtlety than that," he muttered at his wand, flicking it again. This time, a few black and grey shirts floated over to his bag. "That's more like it."

"Let me know before you leave," Ginny said, heading to the pack before she called her mother.

...

"You're leaving as well?" Molly asked, surprised.

"Yes. I did say that work was wanting to send me overseas," Ginny added, trying not to sound too defensive.

"Oh, yes. I just... I thought it might have been in a few months, not days. I read about Luna's Nargle discovery; you're not going to be trawling through disease-ridden swamps and forests, are you?" Molly asked, concerned and thinking of the various spells and potions her daughter might need to survive that sort of environment.

Ginny tried not to laugh at the thought. "No, I definitely won't be doing that. It's a simple research story; I should be back within a fortnight."

Molly seemed relieved at Ginny's response. "All right. Well, do take care of yourself, won't you? I'll worry otherwise."

"I know. I'll stay as safe as I possibly can," Ginny promised, hoping it wasn't a lie.

"Thank you, dear. Now, is your brother still there? George was far too vague about where he's going, and I'm worried he's going off to purchase Merlin knows what and the Ministry will confiscate it or send him off to Azkaban," Molly fretted.

"George will be fine, Mother. He knows what he's doing," Ginny said.

"I suppose he does, but that doesn't mean I won't worry until you're both home safe," Molly added.

"I know. I've got to go now; I'll call when I can. Love you."

"Love you too, dear. Do be safe!" Molly called a second before the call ended.

"Always adds something right as I end the call, _every bloody time_ ," Ginny muttered, grabbing her bag and heading to George's room. "Ready, dearest brother?"

"Always, sister dearest," George replied, his own bag slung over his shoulder.

Ginny hugged him tightly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Look after yourself; don't make a liar out of me, okay?"

"I always look after myself," George lied, sounding indignant.

Ginny snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Take care, okay George?"

"You too, Gin-bug," George said, squeezing her once before pressing a kiss to her cheek and Apparating.

Ginny did a final check of the apartment, ensuring that the doors and windows were closed and locked and then Flooed back to Blaise's home.

...

_You've reached Neville and Dennis. We've had to leave due to a family emergency, but leave us a message and we'll get back to you as soon as we've returned._

_This is Luna and Rolf's fireplace. We're out searching for Nargles; there's been a nest spotted in Africa! Leave a message on the fireplace, but don't expect a reply; we always forget the code for this thing._

_Yes, Mother, I'm still away with Blaise. I'll owl when we're back. Unless I forget again._

_Only five people in the world have this fire grate number, and I'm with one of them right now. As Draco said, we're off travelling and we'll owl when we're back. Don't worry, I'll remind him._

_Thank you for calling George and Ginny's fireplace. Please listen closely as our menu options have recently changed. If you're calling for George, please say_ **_one_ ** _; if you're calling for Ginny, please say_ **_two_ ** _; if you're calling regarding bills we owe, please say_ **_three_ ** _; if you're calling about a product sold to you by Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, please call the store. You shouldn't be calling our private grate number. In fact, you shouldn't have our private grate number. Finally, if you're calling to try to get a story out of us and/or your name is Rita Skeeter, please close your grate now. To listen to these options again, close your grate and call us back._

...

"Surprise!"

Amelie grinned at the small party Odette and Marcel had organised for her one-year anniversary. Everyone was there, even Jacques and Etienne, and there was a small wrapped gift among the plates of food and cake.

"Odette a acheté le gateau, ne vous inquiétez pas," Marcel promised. (Odette bought the cake, don't worry.)

"Tais-toi," Odette muttered, nudging him sharply with her elbow. (Shut up.)

"Félicitations pour votre anniversaire," Jacques said, pressing a light kiss to her cheeks. (Congratulations on your anniversary.)

"Merci, Jacques. Merci Odette et Marcel; c'est merveilleux," she said with a bright smile. (Thank you. This is wonderful.)

Odette beamed at her praise and offered her the knife to cut the cake. "Continuez, avant que Marcel ne soit fâché," she said with a teasing tone, Marcel shaking his head. (Go on, before Marcel gets upset.)

Amelie laughed and took the knife.

Ginevra wondered what would happen if she stabbed Jacques with the knife right then and there.

Amelie cut the cake to the applause of her co-workers, and started handing out slices on paper plates, concentrating on the task as others started to eat eagerly, hungry and impatient.

"Merveilleux gâteau, Odette," Marcel announced, grinning. (Wonderful cake.)

Amelie set the knife down when the cake was cut into slices and everyone had a piece for themselves. She took a small plate for herself and went to stand near Jacques, worried that he was back at work so soon. He didn't notice her presence, too intent on his conversation with Etienne to take note of her surroundings, and Ginevra listened to them carefully.

The doctors had finally declared him fit for work and Jacques had practically Apparated from his appointment to Avenir, eager to get started again. That had been a week ago, and Amelie was worried that he was overexerting himself. Etienne didn't seem to share her concern, keeping Jacques at work as long as possible every day, even stealing him away on weekends.

"Vous l'aimez vraiment, n'est-ce pas?" Odette asked, her voice quiet. (You truly love him, don't you?)

Ginevra wanted to curse at the interruption; _Etienne was saying something about a final ingredient?_

"Oui," Amelie replied, though she sounded sad. "Je ne pense pas qu'il m'aime autant que son travail. Je ne me dérange pas d'être le deuxième meilleur, surtout," she said, shrugging and playing with her cake on her plate. (I do not think he loves me as much as his work. I do not mind being second-best, mostly.)

Odette's jaw clenched, as it always did when she got defensive over her friends. "Jacques, vous ne faites pas attention à Amelie. Vous êtes chanceux de l'avoir, agissez comme ça!" (Jacques, you are not paying attention to Amelie. You are lucky to have her, now act like it!)

Jacques seemed surprised at Odette's fierce words, and he turned away from Etienne to look at Amelie, who was still looking down at her plate, her cheeks red.

Ginevra cursed silently, her cheeks burning in anger. _Just a few more minutes and she was sure that Etienne would have mentioned what the ingredient was and what it was being used for!_

"Peu importe, votre travail est important," she said. (Never mind, your work is important.)

Realising that he'd lost Jacques' attention completely, Etienne glared daggers at Odette, who ignored him far more easily than she would have done a year ago.

"Autruche, pardonne-moi, belle. Le parti vous fête. Avez-vous ouvert votre cadeau?" Jacques asked, looking to the table to see the gift still sitting there. (Nonsense, forgive me, beautiful. The party is to celebrate you. Have you opened your gift?)

Amelie set her plate aside and went to the table to take the wrapped gift. She unwrapped it, people watching her for a reaction. Her eyes widened when she saw the gold bracelet nestled in the box.

"C'est trop, je ne peux pas l'accepter," she said, looking to Odette. (This is too much, I can't accept it.)

"Ce n'est pas de nous, c'est de lui," Odette said, nodding her head at Jacques. (It's not from us, it's from him.)

"Merci, Jacques. C'est beau," Amelie said, taking the bracelet out of the box to put on her wrist immediately. (Thank you. It's beautiful.)

"Un beau cadeau pour une belle femme," he murmured, drawing her close to kiss her briefly. (A beautiful gift for a beautiful woman.)

On either side of them, both Odette and Etienne rolled their eyes.

Later that afternoon, with a strong Sleeping Draught slipped into the punch bowl and all of her coworkers dozing off gently, Ginevra made her way to Avenir's back area. Jacques and Etienne had succumbed to the draught as well and were asleep where they stood. Ginevra searched their desks, read Etienne's notes, and finally realised what the final ingredient was and exactly what they planned to do with it. She had heard bits and pieces since she'd started working in the back areas, but it hadn't been enough, it hadn't been more than her own suspicions; she needed concrete evidence, and here it was in front of her. She copied everything down, feeling sick to her stomach.

When she had finished, Ginevra left the area once more, ensuring that nothing had been disturbed. She realised that she was trembling and hurried to the bathroom to get herself under control again, clutching the pocket watch tightly in her grip. She had to tell Pansy what they had planned, and she had to get out of Avenir - _hell, France itself_ \- before their plan began its implementation.

With everyone still asleep, and unlikely to wake up for another hour or so, Ginevra headed to the back area once more, stepping around Jacques and Etienne to get to the fireplace. She erected a similar spell that she had at Jacques' apartment to ensure no one would overhear her true words if they did suddenly wake up. The fireplace in the back area was the most secure, and no one would think to check it once she was gone. With the spell in place, Ginevra called Pansy's secretary Lin, stating it was an emergency and requesting a secure line to talk to the Director. It was granted within seconds, Pansy looking worried.

"Code name, Red Fox. Requesting immediate extraction and protection," Ginevra said, glancing over her shoulder nervously.

Jacques and Etienne were still asleep, but she didn't want to take any chances.

"Red Fox, state the emergency," Pansy replied, her hands gripping her chair's armrests tightly. "Has your cover been compromised?"

Ginevra shook her head, tucking a stray length of her brunette hair behind her ear. "No, my cover has not been compromised," she replied, licking her lips nervously. "I've discovered what they're after. I need to get out, I need to get safe."

Pansy didn't question her, simply nodded in response. "Very well. An extraction will be scheduled for tonight at your usual rendezvous point. Storm and Snow will meet you."

Ginevra felt her blood turn to ice at their names. She'd done too much as Amelie, and while she knew they'd understand it was for her job, for the good of wizarding kind, Ginevra couldn't bring herself to face them just yet.

"No! Not them. Please, not them," she pleaded. "I just need to get out, and I can't see them, not yet. Is the Herbologist available? He's the only one I trust other than the Holey Forge, and I know he's been sent elsewhere at the moment. Please," she begged.

Pansy didn't answer straight away this time and Ginevra looked over her shoulder again to where Jacques and Etienne were sleeping upright. The spell could wear off at any moment and she had no excuse for being back here. _Shit, she should have firecalled from another fireplace_.

"I will contact the Herbologist. Go to your rendezvous point in three hours, someone will be there to meet you. Bring everything you require to prove and justify your accusations," Pansy said.

"Of course. Thank you," Ginevra whispered, ending the firecall a second later.

The spell around her faded and Ginevra turned around to see Etienne waking up, his eyes blinking in confusion when he heard Jacques' snores, and he zeroed in on Ginevra far too quickly for her to run.

"C'est un jour fatiguant, n'est-ce pas, Etienne?" she asked. (It is a tiring day, is it not?)

"Je ne pense pas que la journée est à l'origine de notre fatigue," he said, jaw tight. (I do not think the day is to blame for our tiredness.)

Jacques was still snoring, as was everyone else in the building, and no one responded as Etienne grabbed Ginevra, binding her with a spell. He looked over to Jacques with a sneer, then dragged Ginevra by her hair to one of the cells.

"Je lui ai dit qu'il était idiot, mais il n'a pas écouté! Et maintenant, votre fille stupide, insensée, vous avez essayé de nous droguer pour obtenir nos secrets! Vous me diraz tout ce que vous savez," Etienne snarled, throwing Ginevra into the cell so hard that she connected against the wall, her head snapping to the side and her body crumpling down to the ground a second later.

Ginevra didn't move.

"Amelie? Si tel est votre vrai nom," he added with a sneer. (If that is your real name.)

There was no movement, not even the rise and fall of her chest and back as she breathed. Etienne stepped forward, wondering if he'd killed her. Jacques wouldn't believe that his beloved Amelie was a traitor without evidence, and with her dead, he would blame Etienne without hesitation. _The man truly was a fool_.

Etienne moved closer still, his heart pounding in his chest. Still, there was no movement or response from Amelie, and he could see a seeping of blood pouring from her head. He knew from experience - his victims, of course, not his own - that head wounds could be superficial and bled a lot, or they could be serious and still bleed a lot.

 _Merde_ , he thought, wincing. _Their work would never be completed now; Jacques would be distraught and angry and refuse to work with him any longer_.

Finally, with one more step, Etienne was close enough to Amelie to poke her with the tip of his wand. There was no response.

In all of his mutterings and thoughts, Etienne had forgotten one very important thing: Amelie could do silent wandless spells, and she was far more powerful than he would ever be.

When Etienne poked Amelie for a second time, she completed the spell she had been creating in her head for the last minute, and all hell broke loose.

Ginevra grabbed Etienne's wand and snapped it before he could respond. The old French man gaped at the action, his face pale, and he clutched at his chest as though she'd punctured his heart instead.

Outside the cells, several small fires started in the potions labs of Avenir, both in the main room and the back areas. Smoke began to drift up towards the ceiling. Then the ground shook, the building around them starting to rumble, fierce and loud. The combination of smoke and noise was enough to make a few people startle awake, confused and dazed. The windows shattered next, glass exploding and showering down on the people inside. There was screaming then, the rest of the Avenir workers waking up as well, and in their confusion, people forgot their magic and did the next best thing: ran for the exits and stairs to get out of the building.

"Qu'avez-vous fait?!" Etienne shouted over the noise, pulling Amelie up off the floor just to land a solid blow across her face. (What have you done?!)

Ginevra smiled a bloodied smile, teeth red. "Je détruis cela. Tout ça," she replied, then held onto Etienne's wrist tightly and bound them together, the cell door slamming shut behind him. (I'm destroying this. All of this.)

The building was starting to collapse, bricks and mortar unable to withstand both the fires and ground shaking. The roof sank and bowed in the middle as the flames reached the ceiling, then fell in completely, people screaming as rafters and large chunks fell onto them. The ground continued to shake, the ground outside tearing apart as the fires continued to burn, destroying all of the precious parchments and work they'd spent years working on. Cauldrons bubbled over, potions exploded and added to the carnage, and the screams filled the air as people started to get stuck in the stairways, panicking and desperate.

All of the destruction and ruin was spurred on by Ginevra's magic and anger. She was fast running out of the former, though the latter seemed to grow.

"Pourquoi?!" Etienne called over the noise and screams and fires raging. (Why?!)

"Amelie! Etienne!" Jacques called, coughing on the smoke.

Amelie hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest.

Ginevra's grip tightened on Etienne's wrist, keeping him silent.

The smoke outside was too thick to see through, and Etienne didn't want to know what Amelie would do to him if he tried to call out to his colleague.

Jacques called out a few more times, coughing more wearily with each passing call, but without an answer, he presumed that they'd left, and soon followed.

"J'arrête le plan de La Révolution. Je ne vous laisserai pas tuer des millions de demi-sang innocents et de sorcières et de sorciers _impurs_ ," she said, glaring. (I am stopping La Revolution's plan. I won't let you kill millions of innocent half-bloods and _impure_ witches and wizards.)

Etienne didn't get a chance to respond before she continued.

"Et j'arrête votre propre plan personnel pour ramener Voldemort à la vie," Ginevra hissed, glaring at Etienne. (And I am stopping your own personal plan to bring Voldemort back to life.)

At those words, Etienne's eyes widened; he had never voiced his intent, nor written it down, even in his own private scrolls. "Comment avez-vous connu?" (How did you know?)

Ginevra looked down at him. "J'avais ce fou de ma tête pendant un an. Je sais comment il pense et je savais chaque chose qu'il a écrit dans son journal. Il a écrit la potion que vous avez lutté pour recréer, pour rendre la vie éternelle aux morts. Vous manquez néanmoins un dernier ingrédient." (I had that madman in my head for a year. I know how he thinks and I knew every single thing he wrote in his diary. He wrote the potion you've been struggling to recreate, to bring eternal life to the dead. You're still missing one last ingredient though.)

Etienne's eyes widened and he looked at Amelie in a new light. Everyone knew of the little English girl who had carried a piece of Voldemort's soul around with her in the form of a diary, unwittingly transferring her soul to the Dark Lord's every time she poured her heart out to the seemingly blank pages. More than this realisation was that the witch in front of him _knew the answer_ ; _she could tell him what he needed to know!_

"Quelle est la réponse? Qu'est-ce qui me manque?" he asked, almost excited for the answer, despite his looming death. (What is it? What am I missing?)

Ginevra refused to answer, her face stinging, her head aching, her body bruised and battered and bleeding. Thinking of her friends, of people she hadn't even met, of people who didn't refuse to die simply because their ancestors hadn't continued to interbred, of the hundreds and thousands and millions of people this man would have killed, and the many more that Voldemort would have killed had he been resurrected yet again, Ginevra shook her head. She refused to give Etienne a single thing more, not even an answer in the smoke-filled cell. Etienne seemed to realise that she wasn't going to respond and he continued to cough miserably . They had been stuck in the cell for almost fifteen minutes now, and while Ginevra had been crouched low for most of that time, avoiding inhaling the smoke, Etienne had stood over her for most of the time. Fifteen minutes was all that was needed to kill a person with smoke inhalation, whether Muggle or magic, it seemed.

Ginevra didn't feel any pity or remorse when Etienne breathed his last breath. If she'd had any moisture in her dry mouth, she would have spat on him. Instead, she started to cough as more smoke filled her lungs. She just needed to gather enough energy to Apparate to the rendevous point and then -

"Amelie?"

Ginevra's eyes went wide at the familiar voice. _What the hell was Odette doing down here?_

"Gabriel?" was Odette's next hiss, and Ginevra felt a wave of nausea roll through her at the name.

Gabriel was the half-blood wizard who had disappeared a few months before she'd started at Avenir: the man who Odette had fancied. Ginevra had seen a photo that Marcel had taken of Gabriel and Odette, sitting at lunch together and smiling and obviously smitten with each other. Her heart had stopped and her blood had run cold when she'd realised that Gabriel was the man who Jacques and Etienne had been torturing in Avenir's back rooms. The very same man who had died less than a month ago, his mind snapping and causing a strong enough mental backlash on Jacques to send him to the hospital.

"Gabriel, est-ce que vous êtes ici? Amelie?" Odette called, louder now. (Are you here?)

 _Get out of here, get out before you get yourself killed!_ Ginevra wanted to scream at her, but she couldn't. Doing that would mean that Odette would see Etienne in the cell with her, and while she might believe Ginevra's poorly worded excuse about getting accidentally locked in with Etienne, it wouldn't explain the bruises and cuts on her face. She couldn't spare even that small amount of magic with the ground breaking apart and the fires continuing to rage.

" _Merde_. Amelie! Gabriel?!" Odette called, coughing loudly and miserably, her lungs filling with smoke.

Ginevra managed to Apparate out of the cell, though her body screamed in protest, and she counted herself lucky to not have Splinched herself instead. She stumbled out to the back area, not realising that her bracelet had fallen off and her pocket watch had fallen out of her pocket as well. She was too focused on finding Odette to get her the hell out of there. It wasn't part of her original plan, since she really wanted everyone to think she'd died, but she couldn't live with herself if she left Odette to die.

"Odette? Nous devons partir," Ginevra called, tugging Odette towards the exit. (We have to leave.)

"Non! Je dois trouver Gabriel. Je sais qu'il est ici," Odette said, eyes watering and face covered in a film of soot and dirt. (No! I need to find Gabriel. I know he's down here.)

"Odette, he's dead," Ginevra said, hoping she sounded reassuring rather than heartless.

Odette's eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. "Non, non!"

"Je suis désolé," Ginevra said, holding out a hand to lead Odette back outside to the fresh air where she could be treated by the healers arriving at the scene. (I'm sorry.)

"Non!" Odette screamed, running back to the cells where blood littered the walls and Etienne's dead body was still lying in a cell.

"Shit," Ginevra cursed, running after her friend.

There was a scream and an awful crunching sound, and Ginevra cleared the smoke, stopping abruptly when she almost fell over Odette's body, lying twisted and broken on the ground.

"Merlin," Ginevra breathed, shocked and sickened at the sight, even as she crouched down to try to find out what had happened, to see what had killed Odette in that brief moment where she'd lost sight of her friend.

Ginevra saw it a second later: some of the bricks that had fallen loose from the building were scattered along the ground, one planted right in front of Odette's foot. She must have tripped over, falling and cracking her head open. Her eyes were wide open and a single tear track ran down her soot-covered face, evaporating with the heat from the flames around them.

"Est-ce que quelqu'un est là bas?" (Is anyone down here?)

Ginevra gathered the last of her strength and Apparated silently from the destroyed ruins of Avenir to her rendezvous point with the Herbologist. Physically and emotionally, she was beaten and bruised, and there was hardly a patch of skin left that hadn't been injured in some way. Ginevra's arm was throbbing painfully from where she'd connected with the cell wall, and while her grip on Etienne hadn't loosened, he hadn't stopped trying to dig his nails into her arm to make her let go of him, so she was covered in blood and gouge marks as well.

Neville started to greet her warmly, his words falling away and his expression giving way to shock. He treated her arm immediately, dousing it in a foul-smelling potion before bandaging it, then cleaned her with as many Scourgify spells as he could without hurting her further. Ginevra was too magically depleted to be of any help, and as she let her friend clean and treat her, all she could think about was Odette, lying broken and dead on the floor.

 

...

End of the forty-third chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	44. Chapter 44

Blaise grinned at Ginny's expression, seeing her eyes widen at the sight of Prague sprawling out before them. Beside him, Draco pulled his robes around him tighter, muttering about the winter chill and how he was certain the warming charms sewn into his robe were faulty.

"Stop your whinging, love. We'll be inside soon," Blaise said.

"We're not inside right now, so it's not soon enough," Draco muttered.

Ginny ignored both of them, looking at the brightly lit houses, the river, the bridges, and the world around them. She vaguely remembered parts of Prague from Ginevra's visit here, but it all felt brand new to her mind. The wind whipped at her hair, startling Ginny for a moment as it was black and not her usual red colour. Tucking her hair back behind her ear, Ginny checked that the magical bobby pins that kept her hair black were still there. Satisfied that they were, she continued along the street with Draco and Blaise.

They reached their destination after a few minutes, Ginny knocking on the door firmly and in a particular succession. Draco and Blaise stood behind her, Draco shivering while Blaise waited patiently, rolling his eyes at Draco's theatrics. None of the passersby noticed the fact that both men were clutching their wands in their sleeves, ready to attack or defend as required.

"Who is it?" a woman asked, her voice muffled through the thick door.

"I'm looking for my dog; it ran away from home," Ginny said.

"Have you checked the pound?" the woman asked.

"I have, but they only had cats."

With the required phrases spoken, the door opened a sliver. A woman looked out of the crack cautiously and saw the witch and two wizards standing on her doorstep. Her suspicious expression changed to surprise when she saw Ginny and she opened the door wide. "Jenny!"

"Who's Jenny?" Draco hissed, looking over his shoulder with a frown.

"Me," Ginny replied. "It is good to see you again, Kelly," she said, greeting the woman with a kiss on the cheek.

Stunned at the turn of events, both Draco and Blaise followed Ginny into the building. The door closed behind them, a strong Glamour hiding the apartment from sight from the Muggles on the street, their eyes sliding over the place where four people had just disappeared.

"Would you like tea? Or coffee? I think I have some biscuits?" Kelly offered, wringing her hands nervously.

"It's all right, Kelly. We've had a long trip through far too many International Apparation points. Can we talk with you and - "

"Oh, Nik! Okamžik, prosím," Kelly said, rushing off to find Nik before they could stop her. (One moment, please. Czech)

"Tell me the rest of the house won't have this horrid wallpaper," Draco muttered, picking at the peeling floral wallpaper.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "We're here to protect Kelly and Nik, not to decorate," he said, then turned his attention to Ginny. "You never said you'd met Kelly before."

"If she'd been compromised, she wouldn't have recognised me and I would've known it was a trap. I didn't want you two to tip her off by looking too curious in our conversation."

"Still, you could've told us," Draco said, picking more of the wallpaper and accidentally peeling off a long and far too obvious piece, wincing.

"Would you stop destroying the house?" Blaise hissed, taking the paper from Draco's hand and repairing it with a flick of his wand.

When Kelly returned with Nik, Draco was bracketed by Blaise and Ginny so he wouldn't destroy any more of the wallpaper. Kelly frowned a little at the way they were standing, but didn't mention it. Instead, she took Nik's hand and nodded to Ginny. "Nik, this is Jenny, the woman I told you about."

Nik's eyes widened and she looked between Ginny and Kelly. "She is the one who saved your life?"

"Twice," Kelly said, smiling. "Jenny, this is my wife, Veronika."

"Lovely to meet you, Veronika."

"Call me Nik," she said. "I have to thank you for saving Kelly's life; I would not have met her otherwise," Nik said, smiling at her wife.

"It was no problem at all," Ginny said with a quick smile.

"Žádný problém? Jenny, you broke your arm!" Kelly exclaimed. (No problem?)

"It healed," Ginny replied, shrugging. "I needed to keep you safe then, just as I do now. Have you seen anything odd or suspicious recently?"

Kelly and Nik both took a moment to think and then they shook their heads.

"We'd like to check the house over before we get settled, if that's all right?" Blaise asked.

"Samozřejmě," Kelly said, offering to show them through the house. (Of course.)

"They'll be able to find their way. Why don't you tell me how you and Nik met?" Ginny asked Kelly, indicating towards the small dining table and chairs.

Kelly smiled brightly and immediately started talking, tugging Nik over to the table alongside her. Draco and Blaise left the three women to check over the house uninterrupted.

...

Pansy read over the reports that had been sent in from George, Dennis, Neville, and Luna. Of the four reports, one was fine, one had bad news with the Cloffice agent harmed, another two had even worse news with the agents already dead by the time they'd arrived.

Unfortunately, Luna had been one of the latter. The report was descriptive to the point where even Pansy felt ill. According to the last line in Luna's report, she planned on Obliviating herself after owling the report to Pansy. She couldn't blame Luna for wanting to do so and Pansy regretted bringing Luna out of retirement, even for this short three-day period.

Neville had also been one of the latter reports. He had followed the magical signature back to the agent's killer and planned on bringing them back to Cloffice. The animal abuse that Neville had discovered at the person's home sent a cold shiver up Pansy's spine. She had to wonder how the French Ministry knew of someone like that, and decided she didn't really want to know the answer.

George had stopped the agent from being killed, accidentally Apparating between the agent and their potential killer. The only reason he'd survived was due to the Shielding Cloak he had been wearing. Pansy had felt her blood run cold at the very thought, anger at almost losing George again making her blood run hot seconds later. She was glad to see that George had managed to Stun and bind the witch in question, and in his report, he stated that he would be returning with both the agent and the witch. Pansy intended on dealing with her personally.

Dennis had found his agent alive, well, and waiting impatiently for an extraction. She had dealt with the gang before they had a chance to deal with her, Obliviating over twelve people in one minute. With their defenses lowered and confusion abounding, she had then Stunned them all, found all of the incriminating evidence required for Cloffice to deal with them, and had returned to her home to wait. Dennis would be back by the end of the evening with the witch and evidence in hand. For something to do, Dennis had liaised with the local Magical Enforcement Agency to ensure that none of the gang members left the country while they were busy putting their case together.

"Ms. Parkinson? Dezzy has instructions to... ahem, drag you out by your ears if you don't leave your office by ten o'clock," Dezzy said, somewhere between apologetic and adamant.

Blinking at her house elf's words, Pansy looked to Dezzy with a frown. "Just whom instructed you to do this?"

"Mr. George Weasley. Dezzy would not follow them, but Ms. Parkinson has not left or eaten," Dezzy added, indicating to the plate full of food by her elbow.

Pansy sighed. She had planned on eating, but Luna and Neville's reports had put her off her food. Besides, it wasn't the first time she'd missed a meal. Pansy subconsciously rubbed one of the longer scars on her forearm.

"Ms. Parkinson? Does Dezzy need to drag Ms. Parkinson by the ears?" Dezzy asked.

"No, Dezzy. I'm going now," Pansy said with a brief smile. "Next time, don't feel the need to follow George's every instruction, all right?"

"Dezzy wouldn't normally, but... Ms. Parkinson worries Dezzy sometimes."

Pansy couldn't blame the poor house elf. "I'll set an Alarm Quill next time, all right?"

"Yes, Ms. Parkinson," Dezzy said, watching dutifully to ensure that Pansy really left her office and went to sleep.

...

Draco curled around Ginny's back, his body firm against hers and his hand making teasing patterns along her body.

"Draco, we're... we're here for work, not for pleasure," Ginny muttered.

"Blaise can work, we can pleasure," Draco cajoled, smirking against the curve of her shoulder.

"Bloody bastard, why can't _you_ work?" Blaise hissed from the ensuite bathroom, a disc held close to his ear.

While Ginny had distracted Nik and Kelly, Blaise and Draco had gone through the house, attaching recording discs to every hidden surface they possibly could. They were mostly backup in case someone managed to get through the wards they'd set up, but someone still had to listen to them to ensure everything went by without a hitch. While there had been no threats against either Kelly or Nik and so far it seemed as though they might actually escape the French Ministry's notice, there was no reason not to take extra precautions to ensure their safety.

Draco ignored Blaise easily enough, turning Ginny around so she was lying on her back, his legs bracketing her thighs. Ginny's hair had black streaks through it - they couldn't find one of the damned bobby pins in her mess of hair - and her cheeks were red, her lips plump from biting them to stay as silent as possible. Draco grinned and winked down at her, pressing a light kiss to her chin before kissing his way down her torso, kissing both of her nipples, leaving a feather-light trail of kisses down her stomach and towards the patch of hair between her legs. He held her legs open, his fingers squeezing her thighs as his thumbs spread out towards her lips. Draco looked at Ginny once more, the blush spreading across her torso and face, and pressed a kiss to her thighs just between the curve of his thumb and fingers before he moved between her legs properly.

Ginny whimpered when Draco started licking at her, his hands still splayed across her thighs and his thumbs moving to press firmly against her clit. She fisted a hand in his hair, tugging tightly since she couldn't clamp her thighs around his head like she so desperately wanted to do. She felt him smirk against her and muttered something under her breath about bastards and dexterity.

Draco would have moved back, but Ginny's grip in his hair was rather tight, and he doubted she'd appreciate his comment about the correlation between being a bastard and his dexterity.

Draco was utterly relentless, never letting her get used to one motion before starting on another. He finally let go of her thighs to use his fingers on her too, and Ginny's legs had practically clamped around his head of their own accord. She'd tried not to laugh too much at that, but then Draco's fingers had started to caress under her legs, and she couldn't help but burst out in a peal of laughter at the ticklish sensation, letting go of his hair.

Sucking in oxygen eagerly when Ginny's legs fell away from his head, Draco pressed wet kisses to her thighs and knee, slowly stroking and working a finger inside her, adding lube after warming it between his fingers. Ginny's laughter turned into a breathless moan, her lip caught between her teeth again. Draco was bloody glad he'd remembered to put up a Silencing Charm earlier. Well, Blaise had remembered, but that wasn't the point.

Speaking of the devil, Blaise walked out of the bathroom with a half-hearted glare, the receiving disc still held to his ear. Draco grinned over at him, his mouth and chin wet, slipping a second finger inside Ginny, both of them watching as she writhed beneath his _dexterous_ ministrations.

Blaise watched them, eyes dark with lust as he moved over to the bed slowly, the receiving disc pressed to his ear. He reached out with his free hand to stroke back some of Ginny's sweat-damp hair, and she smiled up at him in response. Her eyes started to glaze over as Draco worked at her clit, and Blaise let his hand fall to her mouth. Ginny released her bottom lip and took Blaise's fingers in her mouth instead, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked hard around the digits.

"Fuck."

Draco tugged Blaise's shirt to get his attention, then pulled him down completely to kiss him, sharing Ginny's taste between their mouths and tongues. Blaise groaned, almost desperate at the taste and Draco pulled away as he slowly worked a third finger into Ginny, crooking his fingers into her at the same time as he pressed his thumb against her clit.

The fourth time proved to be too much, Ginny's body going taut as she orgasmed beneath them, her cry muffled by Blaise's fingers as Draco's fingers teased and pressed against her.

Ginny felt her body relaxing as her orgasm washed over her, her mind floating in a soft haze even as her heart raced in her chest. She tugged Blaise's hand out of her mouth gently, licking her lips and feeling them swollen beneath her tongue. "Thanks for the loan."

Blaise grinned and winked down at her. "Any time, Gin."

Draco made a muffled sound around his own fingers.

Blaise laughed at the sight and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You did a good job, love. Gin looks very happy."

Draco smiled at the praise, stopped sucking his fingers clean with a wet pop, and pulled Blaise in for a long and dirty kiss.

Ginny forced herself to sit up, fanning herself as she watched them kiss. Blaise tore away from Draco far too soon and they both looked at him in concern.

"Shit. Something's happening," Blaise cursed, pressing the receiving disc closer to listen, a frown forming.

Ginny immediately started to get dressed, her legs a little wobbly on first standing. She threw a shirt to Draco, who looked downright murderous that they'd been interrupted.

"What's going on?" Draco asked, pulling his shirt on reluctantly.

"I... I think Nik's hypnotising Kelly."

"Hypnotism isn't real," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, shove off. You know what I mean. There's something not right. Nik's asking questions, Kelly's answering them, but it doesn't sound... right," Blaise said. Frustrated with how it sounded, even to his own mind, Blaise handed the receiving disc to Draco so he could listen to it for himself.

Draco listened intently for a few moments, frowning at what he was hearing. "What's the serpent?"

"What?" Ginny asked sharply.

"Nik's asking about a serpent, I think. My Czech isn't great," Draco said, offering the receiving disc to her.

Ginny felt as though ice cubes had been poured over her, her blood running cold. She reached out for the receiving disc, feeling oddly detached as she noticed that not even her hand was trembling in her shock. Pressing the receiving disc to her ear, Ginny listened intently.

"Řekni mi všechno, co víš o Project Serpentovi," Nik said, her voice hard and cold, almost as though she was a completely different person than before. (Tell me everything you know about Project Serpent. Czech)

This time, Kelly didn't reply. Ginny felt relief rush through her body, burning away the ice-cold shock.

 _You didn't really think I'd leave Kelly unprotected, did you?_ Ginevra pointed out smugly.

 _What?_ Ginny asked.

 _I put a block on her memories so she wouldn't be able to answer these sorts of questions as easily as she had for me. It's still working, it seems. Though it begs the question: why is Nik asking her now, why not before if they've been married for so long?_ Ginevra asked.

_Unless... It's not really Nik!_

Ginny scrambled off the bed to pull her pants on, grabbing her wand. "When you were putting the discs up, did you see anything that could hide a person?"

Though they were both surprised by her question, both Draco and Blaise considered it seriously and without hesitation.

"There's a cupboard in the hallway."

"There's a wooden chest at the end of their bed."

"Was it locked?" Ginny asked, throwing their wands to them.

"I... don't remember," Draco said, frowning.

"Neither do I," Blaise said, frustrated at the realisation.

"It's been charmed. The real Nik must be in there," Ginny said, heading to the doorway and walking out as quietly as possible.

"The real..." Draco cut off abruptly as he realised the implications of what Ginny had said.

Blaise and Draco hurried after Ginny, hoping to stay as silent and keep the element of surprise for as long as possible.

"Sakra!" Nik swore. "Miluješ mě?" she asked, obviously trying another approach. (God damn it! Do you love me?)

"Ano, Nik," Kelly replied. (Yes.)

"Dobře, pak mi řekni o projektu Had. Prokázat, že mě miluješ." (Good, then tell me about Project Serpent. Prove you love me.)

"Miluji tě," Kelly replied, sounding a bit more confused this time. (I love you.)

Ginny reached the door for Nik and Kelly's bedroom. She held the doorknob, silently performing an _Alohomora_ to ensure it wasn't locked. When there was no tell-tale _click_ , Ginny turned the knob and pushed the door open, sending a Stunning hex towards the bed and hoping she hit someone. At this point, even Kelly would be suitable, if only to stop her from answering Nik's questions.

Nik's voice cut off abruptly as Ginny's Stunning hex hit her, her body toppling back of the bed and onto the floor. Ginny went to bind Nik immediately. Blaise headed over to the bed to bring Kelly out of her coerced state, while Draco worked on unlocking the chest at the foot of the bed.

With Nik bound and moved to the side, Ginny helped Blaise with Kelly, conjuring a glass of water for her and checking her vitals to ensure she was all right.

"She's been drugged. It's not Veritaserum, but it's definitely close enough," Blaise murmured. "I think we'll find a cauldron of unfinished Veritaserum somewhere in the house."

"Do you want to stay with Kelly or do you want me to?" Ginny asked.

"She's responding well to you; I'll go look around," Blaise responded, gripping his wand and taking the offered receiving disc before leaving the bedroom.

They had no idea who Nik had contacted before her desperate attempt to use unfinished Veritaserum on Kelly.

"Did you put recording discs outside?" Ginny asked Draco.

"Yes, front and back," he replied. "Couldn't get to the roof."

"Blaise, check the roof!" Ginny called, knowing he'd hear with the receiving disc. She then returned her attention back to Kelly, gently coaxing the witch to drink more water.

Kelly groaned in protest, feebly batting at Ginny's hand. She turned abruptly and threw up, water and Veritaserum being expelled from her forcefully.

"That's it, good. Don't worry, it can be cleaned," Ginny soothed when Kelly groaned about Nik's mother knitting the blanket for them.

"Bloody hell. Gin, can you try this lock? I'll clean Kelly up," Draco muttered when his fifth spell refused to work on the chest.

"All right. Kelly, Draco's going to look after you now, okay?"

Kelly looked between them blearily, squinting at Draco. "S'pretty."

"Thank you. Come on, that's it," Draco murmured, helping Kelly to her feet and towards the ensuite bathroom.

Ginny cleaned up the mess on the blankets before working on the locked chest. She heard Draco coaxing Kelly to drink more water and throw up more of the potion, and Ginny hoped she would be all right. Looking at the chest and the lock on it, Ginny wondered why Draco's spells hadn't worked. There were four locks and despite Draco's knowledge and Cloffice training, they were still firmly locked shut.

Looking over to where Nik was still unconscious, Ginny wondered if the witch had somehow managed to incorporate Muggle technology into a wizarding trunk. Muggles had all sorts of things with eyes and fingers and voices that stopped other people from using their precious valuables, but it just didn't seem _possible_ to use that sort of technology with a magical trunk.

Ginny tucked a stray hair back, a little annoyed that it was still black rather than red, then froze at the thought.

 _Hair_. _Wizardry might not have use for fingerprints and voice recognition, but they certainly used hair in potions; why wouldn't it expand to spells as well?_

Heading over to Nik, Ginny pulled a few strands of the witch's hair from her head, Transfiguring them into a key. The key was golden rather than the colour of Nik's current black hair, so Ginny just had to hope it would work even while she was still under the effects of Polyjuice Potion.

Inserting the key in the chest's first lock, Ginny was surprised to see all of the locks combine together around the first. She'd expected to use the key on each lock, not _this_. Turning the key carefully, Ginny held her breath as she listened expectantly for the _click_.

It felt like an eternity had passed before the noise finally sounded, and she exhaled in relief, lifting the chest lid to look inside.

The chest had an Undetectable Extension Charm added to it, much like Mad-Eye Moody's chest had. Unlike Mad-Eye Moody's chest, this charm wasn't as large. It seemed to be more suitable to holding pillows or blankets rather than the person who was squeezed into the space.

Ginny reached down into the chest carefully, resting a hand on their shoulder. "Veronika? Nik? Is that you?"

There was a soft groan in response. Ginny was sure that if they'd had room, Nik probably would have shuddered at the light touch.

"It's all right, you're safe now. I'm Jenny, a friend of Kelly's. Can you stand on your own?" Ginny asked.

"Kelly?" Nik rasped.

"She's fine. Alive and safe," Ginny promised. In the background, she could hear Kelly vomiting what was hopefully the last of the Veritaserum. "She's throwing up, actually, but apart from that she's fine."

Nik slowly unfolded her body from the confines of the trunk. From the ragged clothes and marks on her back, apparently Polyjuiced-Nik had hurt her if she'd tried to move or get up. Perhaps she'd hurt Nik if she'd even tried to speak.

Breathing shallowly - her knees and thighs had been pressing on her lungs, constricting how deep she could breathe - Nik looked around the room. She saw herself in the corner of the room, bound and unconscious, and swallowed thickly.

"It's all right, Kelly. One more time and that'll be the last of it," Draco promised, rubbing Kelly's back gently.

Kelly held the glass between trembling hands, but at least she was able to hold it this time, and drank another large gulp before handing it back to Draco. The vile taste of the Veritaserum was enough to make her feel nauseous, and she could only hope that she'd _never_ have to taste the awful stuff again. When she was finished, Kelly leaned against the toilet, too sore and exhausted to move.

Draco handed her the glass again and Kelly blinked at the full glass in confusion. "To replace the liquids you've lost. Don't drink too much at once," he added as she started drinking more water.

"Kelly?" Nik called, her voice rough and deep. "Kelly?"

Kelly swallowed her mouthful and forced herself to her feet, making her way out of the ensuite to see Nik standing in their blanket chest, her body red in places from the awkward position she'd been kept in. All at once, Kelly started to cry. She wiped her tears away as quickly as they'd come, moving across the room to get to Nik, hugging her close as tight as she dared. Nik breathed awkwardly in her grip, but she hugged Kelly back just as tightly and didn't protest once.

"We have to get them to a hospital," Draco said to Ginny, who nodded.

Blaise arrived in the doorway. "We've got to go; we've got company."

"You two get them, I'll get Nik," Ginny said, hurrying around to the unconscious Nik.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked, gently guiding Nik out of the blanket chest.

"Pansy's; they can't follow our magical signature through her wards," Blaise said.

"She's going to be pissed at us," Draco said.

They all knew it for the truth, but there was no time for discussion or an alternative. The front and back doors burst open, and the skylight in the attic was broken with a crash of glass. Blaise took Kelly's hand and Side-Apparated her at the same time as his lovers disappeared.

...

Pansy woke up to screaming. At first she thought it was her own voice and she was still a prisoner, but then she realised that she was in bed and clothed, and the screaming was coming from her foyer.

There were only five people who could Apparate into her house through her wards, and Pansy was one of them. The other four she'd sent on assignment, George was returning through legal channels that very day, so that left three people.

Pulling on her bathrobe, Pansy headed out of her bedroom and towards the foyer. With her earlier conclusion, she wasn't entirely surprised to see Draco, Ginny, and Blaise standing there. The fact that they had three witches with them when they'd only gone to guard _two_ certainly was a surprise. Pansy didn't like surprises. Especially not at four o'clock in the morning.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" Pansy snapped.

"I told you she'd be pissed," Draco hissed at Ginny and Blaise.

"We found out Nik has been trying to get information about Project Serpent from Kelly. She kept the real Nik in a blanket chest for Merlin knows how long, and she needs medical attention."

"And why did you bypass international Apparation laws to Apparate into _my_ house at four in the goddamn morning?"

"The Polyjuiced-Nik sent a warning to someone and we were about to be ambushed, possibly killed," Blaise replied.

"I'd prefer to be killed by a friend," Ginny added, a little _too_ cheeky for Pansy's liking after three hours of sleep.

"Dezzy," she called, the house elf appearing beside her a second later. "Take these two witches to the guest wing and call Heather from St. Mungo's to come and check on them within the hour. If she brings up the time or any excuses, remind her that she owes me a favour and this will make us even."

"Yes, Ms. Parkinson. And the others?" Dezzy asked.

"We'll have to wait until the Polyjuice Potion wears off to deal with this one. The other three are going to the library for a debriefing and had better have some damned good news for me," Pansy threatened, her tone serious enough that even Ginny sobered up.

"We have recording devices throughout the house and we still have the receiving disc," Draco said over his shoulder, practically pushing Ginny and Blaise towards the library.

"Wait, stop. Repeat that."

"Blaise and I covered the house in recording discs. We've got the receiving disc with us," Draco repeated, plucking the small white disc out of Blaise's hand to present it to Pansy.

She immediately put it to her ear, frowning as she tried to listen to multiple conversations from the team that had descended upon Kelly and Nik's home. Pansy translated in her head, her eyes widening when she realised what they were saying. "Fuck me."

She flicked her wand, a quill and parchment appearing. Pansy set them to transcribe the conversations from the recording disc - they would pick up the background conversations easier than she could and that could mean the difference between life and death in some cases.

Turning her attention back to Draco, Blaise, and Ginny, Pansy nodded for them to continue to the library. "Draco, Blaise, debriefing in the library. Ginny, a moment before you go."

Draco and Blaise frowned but headed down to the library, another one of Pansy's house elves appearing to guide them forward. Ginny sighed heavily as they left, turning her attention to Pansy, the expression on her face showing that she knew what was coming next.

"I have to go back, don't I? I have to become Amelie again," Ginny said.

Pansy nodded. "I'm sorry, Ginevra, but you're the only one I trust to send in there and get control of this situation again."

"I almost died last time, Pansy."

"I know."

Ginny licked her lips and ran a hand through her hair, wincing when it caught on the final bobby pin. She tugged it out of her hair, her hair immediately turning Weasley red once more. She stared at the bobby pin for a long moment before pocketing it and looking at Pansy. "You brought me back for this, didn't you? In the Ministry, the whole thing was to bring me back."

"In a way, yes," Pansy admitted, not ashamed or denying the fact. "But I also needed you back in Cloffice so I would know that you would be strong enough to survive. I wasn't certain about Project Serpent being resurrected until Skeleton disappeared."

There was a long moment of silence as Ginny processed Pansy's words and the truth.

Pansy allowed her a full minute to come to terms with what she'd said before continuing, "Ginevra, I need you to infiltrate Project Serpent again, try to find and rescue Skeleton, and do whatever you have to do to destroy them."

Thinking of all of her memories as Amelie, of everything Project Serpent - and Etienne - had been working towards, of the lives they were planning on destroying, Ginny could only nod in agreement.

"Under one condition," Ginny said.

"You can't take Snow and Storm with you - "

"I know. I'm saying goodbye to them properly this time. That's not the condition though," she added quickly. "The condition is that I get a new call sign. I'm sorry, Pansy, but I _hate_ Red Fox."

Incredulous at the request, Pansy laughed. "Change it to whatever you want, Ginevra."

...

Ginny walked through the Centaur Liaison Office's lower levels, trying to ignore the cold feeling creeping up her arms and along her spine. She had spent half a day with Draco and Blaise to say a proper goodbye to both of them, and then spent the rest of the day detailing her plans for infiltration with Pansy.

Pansy had allowed Ginny to wait so she could say goodbye to George. She had also sent a letter to her mother stating that her international trip was unfortunately going to be delayed, but she'd check in when possible. Ginny had then said goodbye to Pansy, and Flooed to Cloffice for what could be the final time.

Now she was in the lower levels and ready to become Amelie once more.

 _Are you sure about that?_ Ginevra asked.

Ginny touched the scar on her right forearm, the one that she had scratched as a child and one that had no place in Amelie's life. Then she raised her arm and knocked firmly on the silver door before her.

The door opened to reveal Whisper and Shadow. Neither one seemed surprised to see her.

"My name is Amelie Léa Dupont," Ginny announced.

Shadow grinned and punched her in the face.

...

End of the forty-fourth chapter.

Thanks for reading!


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